


Hunted

by Markovia



Series: Hunted [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Assassin Shizuo, Assassination Attempt(s), Chasing, Choking, Sex, Violence, mentions of past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-12 21:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markovia/pseuds/Markovia
Summary: "I didn’t think that you would ever find me," Izaya said, blankly."We both knew I would," he replied, taking a step closer to him. "It was only a matter of time."





	1. Get up

**Author's Note:**

> No longer a one-shot to get some practice outside of the behemoth that 'A Good Deed' has become. Enjoy!

The room was dank, disgusting, windowless. The kind of apartment one would only find in the shit slums on the outskirts of Ikebukuro - not the sort of place he would have expected the information broker to hide in but then again, perhaps that was exactly the reason he had fled here. The only light came from a dim candle. The only furniture, a filthy mattress carelessly thrown on the wooden floor. The only occupant, the man who lay, sprawled across the bed, looking at his phone. His skin was covered with grime and his trademark jacket was tattered from the various skirmishes between them over the last few weeks. It had been a long chase, but this looked to be the end of it by the state of him. Had it not been for the gentle rising and falling of his chest, Shizuo would not have singled him out from the rest of the garbage strewn across the floor. His once sleek hair was matted with sticky red blood, knotted against his scalp. The injury on his side of his head must have been from their last meeting the previous day, when Shizuo had caused a brick wall to collapse on him.

 

Shizuo entered the room, coughing lightly to get his attention. The man flinched, immediately sitting up and turning to look at him. His dark eyes were piercing, disturbed, and filled with more life than he looked to possess. As he took in Shizuo’s form, his dark clothes and the grim smile on his face, Izaya’s mouth set into a frown.

 

"I didn’t think that you would ever find me," he said, blankly.

 

"We both knew I would," he replied, taking a step closer to him. "It was only a matter of time."

 

“So who ordered the hit?” Izaya asked, locking his mobile so that he could place it back in his pocket. “I think I’ve a right to know, don’t you?”

 

Shizuo shrugged. “Can’t remember his name, Shinichi something?”

 

“Hmm. Well, I guess he wasn't bluffing then,” the man wrinkled his nose in disgust, turning his head to look at the candle. "Get on with it then."

 

Shizuo frowned, pausing momentarily. "I had rather hoped you would fight."

 

"Why fight it anymore?" he questioned, still staring at the flickering candlelight. His lack of respect irked him and his jaw twitched in annoyance. "I’m too tired."

 

"Too tired?" he spat, approaching the edge of the mattress. He crouched down and tried to catch the other man’s gaze. "Then what was all the running for?"

 

Izaya chuckled under his breath and turned his head. A wry smile slid across his face, mocking him. "To make you angry."

 

Shizuo’s lip curled, showing Izaya that he had achieved his desired effect. Lazily, the information broker laid back against the mattress, arms stretching out over his head. The blond stood and turned from him, hands flitting to the pockets of his leather jacket to find a pair of leather gloves.

 

“Working with the Russians,” he tutted, voice as smooth and irritating as it had always been. “I thought you had more morals than that.”

 

“I only kill the bad people.”

 

Izaya laughed lightly and the sound echoed off the walls. “Good, bad - who are you to judge? Have you fostered some sort of God complex now, beast?”

 

“I don’t believe in God,” he replied, brows knitting together. “So I’m as good a man as any to judge.”

 

“More monster than man- especially now.”

 

“Shut up, flea,” he growled, viciously. He took in a breath, trying to calm the way his pulse was racing out of control. Izaya never failed to rile him with the simplest of insults.

 

The information broker laughed again. “Good to know that beneath that calm face you’re still the same old Shizu-chan. Such an amusing beast.”

 

“Shut _up._ ”

 

"You won't win, you know?" he heard Izaya sneer from behind him. "Even if you do this."

 

"I'd hardly call this losing," he replied, looking back at the other man. He slipped the gloves over his fingers and pulled down the zipper of his jacket, shrugging it off onto the floor.

 

"You lost this game a long time ago," Izaya said, coolly.

 

Shizuo grinned unpleasantly, striding toward the other man. Much to his surprise, Izaya didn’t move, he simply lay there unmoving, thin body looking too exhausted to make any effort. The blond knelt, straddling his body with his legs and caging his torso with his arms. Slowly, he leaned closer to Izaya, almost brushing the tip of his nose with his own.

 

"I have lost nothing," Shizuo hissed.

 

"You are _nothing_ ," Izaya snarled back, teeth bared. His eyes were wide, as if Shizuo’s close proximity made him finally aware of the reality of the situation. There was a bite to his words that reminded the other man of before, of times when their heated movements were not driven by hatred. Before, when Izaya had said that he was _everything._

 

The remark caused him to lose composure and he sat up, moving one hand to grip tightly around the smaller man’s throat. Izaya gasped at the sudden pressure, breath raggedly leaving his lips. Shizuo leaned down again, cheek resting next to Izaya’s so that the other man could feel his lips moving against his skin.

 

"You’re the one who’s worthless, flea" he growled, clenching his fingers tighter around his neck. The information broker wheezed again, fingers reaching to scrabble at Shizuo’s hand, scratching the skin of his knuckles as he tried to remove them. Shizuo watched him, anger burning in his chest at the man below him, at the lie he had just spoken.

 

"Y-you-" he stammered, voice faint.

 

Shizuo lessened his grip, smirking down at him. "What? Want to talk now?"

 

The man coughed, desperately drawing in staggered breaths. Shizuo cocked his head, fully removing his hand from the broker’s throat and placing it back next to his head. Izaya rolled his head to the side, seemingly still recovering from the assault on his windpipe. The blond reached up and gripped his chin, yanking it back to face him.

 

"Speak up," he whispered, lips skimming his cheekbone. "Izaya."

 

At the sound of his name, his dark eyes widened and a broad smile formed on his lips. "Shizuo."

 

The larger man matched his smirk, then leaned down to kiss Izaya’s cracked lips. The information broker didn't make a sound, didn't move - neither stopped Shizuo from enjoying the brief contact. Through the grim on Izaya’s skin, he could still smell his usual, bitter scent and though his lips left dry skin in his mouth, he felt the ghost of their former softness. He missed what had been, he missed _him_. Reluctantly, he pulled back, eyes heavily lidded. Izaya looked back at him, mouth set in a hard line.

 

"I knew you couldn't do it," he hissed. "You will always be weak."

 

Shizuo paused, feeling heat redden his face. He raised one hand and struck Izaya’s cheek roughly, though not enough to break the bones beneath his papery skin. The man initially cried out in pain, though quickly turned his head to look back at Shizuo, teeth bared in anger.

 

"You're a worthless monster," Izaya snapped, voice low. "And you will never be good enough."

 

"Good enough?" Shizuo replied, raising an eyebrow. Izaya chuckled, mouth curving into a smirk. He lurched forward, hand clamping around his throat once again. The smaller man gasped, but refused to remove the arrogant smile from his  face, only angering Shizuo further. "I am not weak."

 

The blond closed his eyes momentarily and enjoyed the feeling of Izaya writhing beneath him. Oh, how he missed this - it had been months since he'd touched his skin. The flea was so fast, always slipping out from between his fingers. It was only the chase, the weeks of battering him down that allowed Shizuo to catch him like this. God, how he hated this evil creature, how he loved him - The information broker let out a strained laugh and raised one hand in front of Shizuo’s face and began waving it back and forth.

 

"What are you doing?" Shizuo asked, pressing down harder on his throat. Izaya ceased waving his hand and the blond felt something jab into his chest. He looked down to see Izaya’s other hand clenched around a small black box, which he was now digging under his ribcage.

 

"B-bye bye," Izaya wheezed, a manic smile rising on his lips. He clenched his hand around the black box.

 

Shizuo let out a harsh cry of pain as a severe jolt of electricity ran over his body, sending his nerves haywire. He squeezed his eyes shut, let his limbs go limp for just a moment, just a second - then his hand gripped nothing but air and he fell forward onto the mattress. When he opened his eyes, Izaya was gone. He released an aggravated yell, slamming his fist down hard on the bed. He flipped over onto his back, running his hands through his hair as he stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, his anger faded into something unexpected - amusement. He let out a bewildered laugh, propping himself up on his elbows and looking into the flame that rested beside the bed. He leaned forward and ran his fingers quickly through the flame, closing his eyes. He could feel the remnants of electricity tingling beneath his skin.

 

A fucking taser. How could he have missed that? Clever, clever flea.

 

A smile rose on his face. Izaya was always one step ahead of him. For months he had been chasing him, only catching glimpses of his face in crowds or sensing traces of his scent in darkened alleyways. He thought he had him cornered. Alone, dirty, exhausted - surely that wasn't an act? And if Izaya knew he could leave, why did he remain in the room for such a long time?

 

It was to taunt him - and it had worked perfectly. Always one step ahead. Well, then. He would just have to keep chasing him.

 


	2. Stay down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let's continue this one! Secondary chapter just to get people into the situation - the next chapter will basically be one big exposition flashback. Hope you enjoy!

“I’ll be fine.”

 

“But-”

 

Izaya tutted and shook his head, holding the mobile closer to his mouth as if the man on the other end would hear the hiss of his voice clearer. “Shinra, I appreciate your concern but I'm capable of patching myself up, okay?”

 

_“Izaya, you need to look after yourself better or you’ll get kil-”_

 

“Please,” the information broker sighed, turning to face the door of his hotel room. He didn’t want to force a smile on his face any longer, he just wanted to sleep. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take care of any injuries and then head to bed, okay? I’m exhausted.”

 

He heard Shinra sigh in resignation. _“Okay Izaya. But if you’re in pain, call me and I’ll send Celty to find you and bring you here so I can treat you.”_

 

Izaya swallowed thickly. Their apartment was one of the last places he wanted to go - Shizu-chan was bound to have eyes on it.

 

 _“Let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?”_ Shinra added, as Izaya swiped his card through the reader, unlocking the door.

 

“If I didn’t know any better Shinra, I’d say you cared about my welfare.”

 

The doctor laughed and the sound crackled through the phone. _“I just can’t be bothered to go out and make another friend to replace you.”_

 

The brunet smirked. “That’s more like it. Speak soon, Shinra.”

 

The door clicked gently open and he dropped the phone to his side. The information broker stood still for a moment, wondering if he had been stupid to refuse his friend’s offer of assistance. The light hum of the city buzzed behind him and the warm summer breeze was starting to cool. It would have been a peaceful, pleasant evening had his entire body not been wracked with pain. He took a final look at the blossoming stars in the dark sky before heading into his house, shutting the door behind him. The man sighed and he moved through the bedroom-cum-sitting room toward the bathroom. He needed a shower, needed to wash away the mud on his skin and the blood that was drying in his hair and on his torso. He needed to get rid of the phantom fingers digging into his throat.

 

After switching on the shower and dumping his rucksack onto the floor, Izaya pulled off his clothes, groaning in pain as his body protested the actions. He caught an unwanted glimpse of himself in the small mirror above the sink - he looked pretty terrible. His eyes were circled by dark shadows and his skin was covered in grime. Red flecks were crusted in his hair and a small stream had dried down the side of his face, stretching to his jaw. He examined the rest of his body and frowned - the damage was worse than he expected. There were a number of purpling bruises staining the pale skin across his chest- he knew what they had been caused by. Five severe blows from the monster’s fist. He winced at the memory, the way the blond grinned when he collapsed under the punches. Izaya gently pressed against the front of his chest, hissing in pain when he moved over a particularly swollen area. If something was broken that would be a real pain. Finally, his gaze rested on the thick band of bruises circling his throat - well, at least he wasn’t dead.

 

The brunet entered the shower and closed the glass door behind him, sighing gently as the warm water hit his sore skin. He began to relax, letting the heat wash away the grime and the aches that came with being chased for months on end. The strains began to dull, though he knew as soon as he left the shower they would resurface - they’d certainly be worse tomorrow. He opened his eyes and shut off the shower, trying to ignore the pulsing pain and the way his heart was racing. A wave of nausea hit him. He growled under his breath and pounded his fist against the tiled wall - he refused to be afraid.

 

With an irritated grunt, he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, running it over his head then wrapping it around his waist. The man wished he was able to forget about his former lover but he found himself unable to. Each old memory of past relations, each new violent act, everything about Shizuo made him feel sick. He wondered which one of them would be the first to kill the other. If their current states were any prediction, his chances weren’t looking so good.

 

Izaya swallowed thickly and ran a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back away his face. Slowly, he crouched down and searched his bag for some clothes. After sourcing a pair of tracksuit bottoms, he discarded the towel and pulled them on. He opened the door to the bathroom, allowing the warm steam to seep into the cooler bedroom. Dim light came through the crack in the door. The information broker paused on his way out, hand stilling on the doorknob.

 

_He hadn’t turned the light on in the main room._

 

The quiet sound of the television floated through the air - it had been switched on to a music channel and was currently playing a pleasant, bluesy track. As he stood, stock-still, in the bathroom, he was hit by the overwhelming stench of coffee and smoke. He felt his stomach drop. There was one person he knew whose breath always smelt of rich roast and expensive tobacco, but - no, it couldn’t be. He had locked the door. How could he have found him this quickly? Was he in so much pain that he was imagining things? Izaya opened his rucksack, taking care not to make much noise, and retrieved his flick-knife. The man froze when he heard the creak of floorboards behind him.

 

“Put the knife down, Izaya.”

 

The brunet gripped the weapon tightly and stood, slowing turning to face the intruder. He knew that voice, he would know it anywhere but it wasn’t until he saw him stood in the doorway, holding a cup of steaming coffee and a cigarette, that he believed he was really there. The monster never failed to surprise him, he thought, a wry smile working onto his face. Shizuo stepped toward him, his thin lips stretching into an unpleasant grin. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black sweater, as well as a pair of dark gloves. Izaya noted that he looked too collected, too calm compared to his usual, rageful self. In his surprise, Izaya couldn’t even muster the energy to cover his anxiety with a false, jovial grin. He became all too aware of his abused, naked torso at that moment and took a step back. Shizuo settled his mug on the toilet cistern and placed his hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe as if he owned the place. It was that laissez-faire action that jerked him out of his nervousness, so Izaya smiled widely and raised the knife level with the other man’s head. Shizuo’s smile faltered and his face dropped into a serious expression.

 

“Shizu-chan, I wasn’t-”

 

“Put it down.”

 

“How did you find me?” Izaya asked. Despite the smile, his voice was shaking - he blamed it on the shock and the way his brain was now racing with ideas of how to escape.

 

Shizuo tilted his head gently to one side. “Drop the knife.”

 

“Answer my question,” Izaya insisted. He knew Shizuo could see the way the knife was shaking in his hand and the blond haired man took a step forward, a dark smirk rising on his face. He placed the still-smoking cigarette in his mouth and took a long drag. Izaya twisted the knife in the air and tried to still his trembling fingers - the smoke was sending his thoughts haywire, Shizuo’s face was blurring, he feel himself start to panic. The information broker’s smile started to falter.

 

The blond let out a breath of smoke and flicked the cigarette toward Izaya. The smaller man coughed as the smoke hit his face and he was distracted enough that he didn’t see Shizuo dart forward and land a fist on the particularly severe bruise on the rib below his heart. He let out a howl of pain and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Shizuo stamped on his hand, forcing him to drop the knife. Izaya wheezed, clutching his side in agony.

 

“Sh-Sh-Shizu-” he panted, winded by the punch. As he struggled for breath he searched for his knife only to find it was now in the hand of his enemy.

 

Shizuo dragged him up by the throat and tossed him into the bedroom. Izaya stumbled backward and his knee collided with a piece of furniture, sending him toppling to the floor. He let out a loud groan and sat up so that his back rested against the end of the bed. Dazed, he looked up just in time to see the blond leaning over him. Shizuo grabbed ahold of Izaya’s chin and forced the dark-haired man to look up at him. He held the point of the knife against the other man’s forehead, digging the metal painfully into his skin. The monster smiled lightly but his gaze was cold and the first signs of rage were starting to glint beneath the surface. Izaya grit his teeth together and his eyes darted back and forth across the room, still looking for a chance to escape.

 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Shizuo murmured. The hand on his chin moved up to stroke the brunet’s hair gently. Izaya shuddered - he hated when Shizuo acted softly, it was too stark a change from his usual approach, too harsh a reminder of days gone by. “Play nice, flea. No more pointin’ knives at me.”

 

Izaya nodded slowly. He hated himself for being so weak, but better to be cautious than injured further. He let out a sigh of relief when the knife was lowered and the hand in his hair disappeared. Shizuo smiled at him, baring a row of shining teeth.

 

“How did you find me?” Izaya repeated, trying his best to keep his face from betraying any of the panic he was feeling. “Why are you here?”

 

“Tsukumoya.”

 

Izaya laughed humorlessly. “Lemme guess, he’s got Shinra’s number tapped?”

 

“You shouldn't use technology if you don't want to be found by him,” Shizuo replied, frowning. His gaze flickered up and down the other man’s ruined body. “You look like shit.”

 

“That’s all thanks to you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya muttered, pushing himself up into a more upright sitting position. “Get out. I’m not in the mood to play tonight.”

 

“This isn't a game, flea..”

 

“F-fuck you,” Izaya answered, wincing. “Get out.”

 

Shizuo sighed and pressed the knife back into his chest. Before he could break the skin, Izaya lurched forward, gritting his teeth to deal with the agony of the blade entering his body slightly, and pushed Shizuo backward onto the floor. He smashed the blond’s wrist into the floor as he straddled his waist, sending the knife skittering underneath the table by the window. Finally the beast’s calm broke - fury was written across Shizuo’s face and finally panic hit Izaya like a freight train, panic he hadn’t felt to this degree for a long time. He needed time to plan if he were to face off against the monster - Shizuo was wild, unpredictable and he was strong enough to do as he pleased. The blond’s hand shot out and dug underneath the other’s ribs, fingers tearing into an open wound. Izaya let out a whine as Shizuo flipped them, so the blond was now straddling him. The information broker began to groan as his hands were pinned down beside his head.

 

“No! Get off!” he yelped, unable to move Shizuo’s steely grip. One hand let go and moved to his neck, gripping his throat tightly. “Get the f-fuck off!”

 

“Calm down, Izaya,” Shizuo ordered, frowning. “It’ll be quicker.”

 

The brunet shook his head feverently, trying to jerk away from Shizuo’s chokehold. When the other man didn’t move he made an effort to calm his breathing. He couldn’t feel the hand tightening further, it just stayed there in that firm grip. A couple of minutes passed, the only sound filling the room was laboured panting from Izaya. Eventually, he relaxed and Shizuo removed his hand from his neck. The blond leaned down, hands resting on either side of the other man’s head.

 

“I should probably ask,” Shizuo commented, gruffly. Izaya shivered as warm breath hit his face. “You got any last requests?”

 

“How considerate,” Izaya replied, sarcastically. He didn’t have the energy to fight back at the moment, his body was protesting against even the slightest movement and his throat was burning from the heavy pressure. The taser was still packed away in his rucksack, far out of reach, and the beast was too close, too strong, to be pushed away.  “I suppose ‘don't kill me’ is too much of a big request?”

 

Shizuo grinned widely. “I ain't gonna forgo my  hundred percent success rate on your part, Iz-a-ya.”

 

The broker returned the unpleasant smile. “I thought as much.”

 

“So?”

 

Izaya’s mind was whirring, ideas of escape spinning out of control. After a moment, something came to light. “I want to call my sisters.”

 

“Huh?” Shizuo replied, mildly surprised. He knew Izaya wasn’t exactly close with his siblings but he supposed that he wanted to wish them well, maybe give them the details to his bank account, before he was killed. “Sure. Go ahead.”

 

“Can I have five minutes alone?”

 

“Not a chance,” he growled, pushing himself onto his feet. He stared down at Izaya and shook his head before taking a seat on the bed. As usual, he sparked up a cigarette and began to smoke, filling the small room with the bitter scent Izaya had grown to detest. “Now, hurry up.”

 

The information broker rolled his eyes and stood up slowly. Shizuo shot him a glare and leaned forward as if he were going to move but halted when Izaya raised his hands in surrender.

 

“My phone is in the bathroom,” he said, taking a step back from the bed. “I just need to get it, okay?”

 

Shizuo blew a plume of smoke from between his lips. “Whatever, flea. Just hurry the fuck up.”

 

“That eager to kill me, huh?” Izaya chuckled, turning so that he could cross the room to the bathroom to retrieve his rucksack. “Do you mind if I put my clothes back on? I’m feeling a little chilly.”

 

“Get on with it,” came the gruff reply.

 

When he was out of sight, he removed his sweats so that he could pull on his jeans, long-sleeved shirt and jacket. When he was fully dressed he quickly dug around in the bag to grab hold of his the two items he needed. The taser was still charged, much to his relief, so he slipped it quickly into the pocket of his jacket and fished his phone out shortly after. Swallowing his nerves, he walked back into the living room and sat down on the end of the bed, facing away from Shizuo, who was propped up against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. He stared straight ahead, fingers trembling over the screen of his phone - he hoped the monster was stupid enough to fall for this. With a flick of his hand, he unlocked the mobile and dialled for Shinra. His heart leapt into his throat when the doctor answered after only two rings.

 

_“Izaya! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soo-.”_

 

“Mairu, is Kururi there too?” Izaya asked, forcing his voice to take on the bright but slightly annoyed tone he always used when speaking with his sisters.

 

 _“Huh? Did you dial the wrong number? It’s me, Shinra,”_ came his friend’s confused reply.

 

“Hah - **no** , I’m just ringing to see what you’re up to,” the brunet continued, trying to stress certain words. He needed the bespectacled idiot to work this out of he might really end up murdered tonight.

 

_“I’m just hanging out with Celty-”_

 

“ **Yes.** So is she there? Or has she gone out to **find her friend**?” he asked, smiling. If he wasn’t so nervous, he might almost be excited by this situation - it was certainly entertaining.

 

There was a pause, then Shinra continued carefully, his voice lower than before. _“Are you in trouble? Is there someone else in the room?”_

 

“Haha, **yeah, absolutely!** Well, can’t your older brother call when he wants to? Do you guys hate me that much, jeez - you’re just like **Shizu-chan**.”

 

 _“Oh!”_ Shinra gasped. _“Well, that was fast. Are you still in the hotel?_ ”

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied, heart pounding animatedly in his chest.

 

_“I’ll send Celty now. It’s not far, so it will take five minutes or so, okay?”_

 

“Okay, well, let Kururi know I said hi.”

 

 _“Can you get outside?”_ Shinra asked. He sounded cheery, as if this were a fun night-time adventure rather than his friend’s life. _“She’ll be outside, won’t you Celty?”_

 

He heard some shuffling in the background, then Shinra laugh gently.

 

“ **Yeah** , I’ll  try and send our parents a message soon,” he answered, quietly. Quickly, he glanced down at his watch and made note of the time. Five minutes, he just had to stall the beast for five minutes and then get out of the room onto the balcony. “Well, it was good to hear that you’re well. Even though you both get on my nerves, I do look out for you guys.”

 

 _“Izaya, I feel like you should really be telling your sisters this heartfelt message, rather than me. If you ended up dying I’m sure they’d be upset, even if they pretend to hate your guts,”_ Shinra snickered. _“Anyway, see you soon.”_

 

The phone line went dead, but he kept the mobile by his ear for a moment longer. What if he did die tonight and Mairu and Kururi were left alone? Their parents didn’t give a damn about what happened to the Orihara children, he’d always been the one looking after them, even if it was behind the scenes.

 

“Yeah,” he said, softly. “Love you too.”

 

Slowly, he dropped the phone and clicked the button to re-lock the screen. Somewhere behind him, the monster shifted and strode around the bed so that he stood in front of the information broker. The still-smoking cigarette hung out of his mouth and the vapour hung languidly around his head.

 

“How sweet,” Shizuo grunted, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth. “You shoulda’ been better to them when you still had a tomorrow.”

 

Izaya smirked, staring at the blond with nothing but utter hatred in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

 

“So,” he began, flicking his cigarette butt onto the floor so that he could crush it with his foot. “How do you wanna do this?”

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, briefly glancing at the clock on the wall behind Shizuo’s head.

 

“Well, considering our past, I guess I can let you decide how you want this to play out,” Shizuo mumbled. “You want me to strangle you? Break your neck or break your skull - uh, I mean-”

 

“Why are you hesitating so much with this?” Izaya mused, brows knitting together. A light flickered on in his head. “Oh, ri-ight-”

 

“Flea-”

 

“This is your first time, right?” he chuckled, placing his hands into his pockets and wrapped one around the taser. The clock on the wall told him a minute was left. “Well, I feel privileged, Shizu-chan.”

 

Shizuo scowled at him and pouted in such a petulant fashion that all the terror Izaya had previously felt was replaced by smugness. “Yeah, well I don’t make a habit of killin’ people. The Russians got a client who wanted you dead and they knew I wanted to kill you. I get paid a shit ton and I get to cover my hands with your blood, seems like a good deal.”

 

The information broker laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “I knew there was no way _you_ would be a professional. How foolish of me.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Shizuo replied, irritably. “But I’ve got their equipment, their intelligence on my side now. And I’ve got you in front of me now, flea.”

 

Izaya took a step closer to the blond and rested a hand lightly on his chest. “Yes, you have Shizu-chan. Would you mind if I requested one more thing?”

 

The larger man hesitated for a moment, staring blankly into the dark eyes looking up at him, then sighed. “What is it, fl-?”

 

Shizuo was cut off by the feeling of Izaya’s lips against his, rough and wet. The blond froze, as startled and uncertain as Izaya had been the previous night. Now, when he wasn’t the one in control, things were different. When he felt the other man’s lips part slightly, his confusion turned to anger and he opened his mouth so that he could bite the informant’s bottom lip. Much to his chagrin, the brunet groaned softly and threaded a hand through Shizuo’s hair, tugging the strands softly. He despised Izaya, he didn't want this man to be the one kissing him but it felt so familiar, so _good_. The information broker pulled his hair roughly upward so that his throat was exposed and released his lips so that he could trail a mixture of sloppy kisses and bites down beside his ear. Shizuo released a soft moan and gripped Izaya’s side with his free hand, eyes fluttering shut.

 

The harsh bites felt wonderful, the sensation went straight to his head and he lost himself in the feeling. Behind his closed eyes, he pictured Izaya. It was wrong but so very beautiful as he felt the other man’s fingers twisting in his hair painfully, his saliva on his lips and his teeth on his throat. For a blissful second, the past had never happened, Izaya wasn’t the person he revealed himself to be, Shizuo never tried to kill him and he was so happy. He was brought crashing back to reality the moment Izaya pulled away and yanked his head up. He held the hair tightly, forcing Shizuo to open his eyes and stare at him.

 

“Oh dear. Just one kiss and you’re a mess. You really must be desperate for human contact,” Izaya hissed, giving him an awful smile. “Such a monster.”

 

“Izaya-”

 

“See you later, Shizu-chan,” the information broker snarled. He pushed Shizuo’s shirt up with one hand and pressed the muzzle of taser against his bare stomach. Before the blond could react, Izaya pressed down on the button and sent a devastating number of volts through his body. Shizuo let out a cry as he dropped to his knees, nerves spasming and vision clouding with colour.

 

“Iz-a-” he stammered, clawing the air blindly to try and find the other man. How the fuck could he have fallen for this trick again, his frazzled mind thought angrily.

 

Izaya’s voice rang out harshly through the blind daze. “I’d say ‘give up’, but this is so much fun! Never stop chasing me, Shizu-chan! Never stop, hah!”

 

Another jolt of electricity fizzed against Shizuo’s shoulder, forcing him into unconsciousness.  

  
  
  



	3. Come closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is a bit of a splice. I had originally written this for 'Hunted' but decided against it as I was only intending to make it a two-parter at first, so I posted a large portion of this as another one-shot called 'Solace', which has now been removed. Well, as I've made this longer I decided to reincorporate it back to where it was (with quite a lot of editing), so apologies if some of you experience deja-vu.

Despite appearances, Shizuo Heiwajima was a good man. He paid his bills on time, he always sent his Mother a birthday card and he held the door open for strangers. He was a good man - so why was he lying face down in his own saliva in some shitty hotel room with the flea’s laughter ringing in his ears? The blond pushed himself onto his hands and knees, groaning in pain from the aftershocks that still ran across his body. What a mess, the little bastard had gotten away again - with the same trick. Shizuo growled and slammed his fist down on the floor, repeatedly.

 

“Shit shit shit shit,” he muttered, punctuating each repetition with another punch. He sighed and pushed himself up off the floor, dusting down his clothes.

 

It would be useless to try and chase after the flea now, Shizuo was exhausted and now he had a free hotel room to sleep in. He moved to the door and pushed it shut, remembering to lock it to prevent any unwanted intrusions - who knew when the flea would reverse their situations and suddenly he would be the one with a knife to his throat. It wasn't like he wouldn't be able to protect himself or that Izaya couldn't simply pick the lock, he just wanted some undisturbed sleep. He doubted he'd be able to sleep properly, each time he shut his eyes all he was able to see was Izaya’s face, his pouty, kissable lips and bright, seductive gaze.

 

His phone beeped in his pocket. He frowned - it was a message from Tsukumoya.

 

_‘Orihara is back at his apartment. Don't fuck it up this time, Heiwajima.’_

 

The man sighed and pushed himself off the bed. He took a further moment in the bathroom to splash some water on his face and ruffle a hand through his hair. When he looked up to stare in the mirror, he was faced with his tired-looking reflection. Despite the exhaustion, he was still spurned on by the thrill of the chase, by the chance to catch Izaya while he was unprepared. He pushed himself away from the sink and grinned at the man in the mirror. If Izaya were to die, he might as well put to rest the slight feeling that lingered from their younger years. Shizuo hated Izaya, he truly hated him - but that didn’t stop him lusting after the lie that he originally believed the broker to be.

 

An intelligent, handsome, kind man. One who saw through his strength, one who loved him rather than feared him. Someone who had a way with words, a beautiful mind and a wit that Shizuo could never dream to keep up with. That was _his_ Izaya. The blond snorted derisively as he headed out of the hotel room, slamming the door roughly behind him. _His_ Izaya was nothing but a lie. Perhaps the man Izaya had told ‘ _I love you’_ was a lie too, he thought, slipping on his gloves. Perhaps he really was a monster. He certainly would be after snapping the flea’s neck.

  


-0-

 

With few resources, an empty belly and an aching head, Izaya Orihara made the choice to return to his apartment. He guided Celty through the streets of Shinjuku as quickly as he could and, upon reaching his doorstep, ordered her _not_ to tell Shizuo where he was going. The informant doubted that Shizuo would follow him at this hour, but he couldn’t be sure, so he would only stay for one night and then move on in the morning. The beast was relentless in his hunt, so he had to be vigilant.

 

Izaya’s home was a beautiful place, only fitting for a man of his calibre. The furthest wall was entirely made of glass, giving a beautiful view of the sparkling city below. The space was open plan, with a well-equipped, stainless steel kitchen to the right and a large seating area occupied by squishy leather couches to the left. A rectangular dinner table was placed in the center of the room so that guests could fully admire the expansive view of the city outside - not that he ever had any guests. The colour scheme stuck to steely grays and rich blues and the surfaces seemed to be devoid of any personal touches. It was almost as if he were living in a showroom. The only signs that this was Izaya’s penthouse were the pictures of his sisters on the mantle, the ashtrays, the stacks of papers and half-empty bottles of wine on the dining room table. A fine layer of dust had settled across the furniture since he had been away - he’d ordered Namie and his cleaner to stay away from his house since the first time Shizuo arrived at his door with murder in his eyes.

 

The information broker sat on the sofa near the vast window, sipping his third glass of wine. A smoking cigarette hung out of one corner of his mouth, his hands preoccupied by the laptop in front of him. It probably wasn’t wise to be finishing up his reports and emails whilst drinking, but he didn’t care all that much - they would be well written regardless. Running from Shizuo meant that he had a lot of work to catch up on and very little time to do so -  he’d be up for a long time tonight. He ran a hand through his hair and took a long drag of his cigarette before tapping the ash into a tray on the table. The image of the beast lingered in his mind. Izaya sighed to himself - what a mess that had all become. When they were younger, he did all he could to get the other man’s attention and at the time he was satiated by their childish fights and playful romance. It was a stupid infatuation, one he had been unable to let go of since high-school. For a number of years after they left Raida, the two of them spent a lot of time together. Izaya didn’t think he would ever forget the first time Shizuo mumbled _‘I love you’_ softly in his ear and the first time he said it back. How quickly that atmosphere changed. The day he found out the truth about Izaya’s chosen occupation, the truth about the kind of things he did and people he hung around with, Shizuo left. The blond said he couldn’t stay with someone like him, with a _liar._ From that moment on, love turned to hate - at least, for Shizuo. As the animosity grew, Izaya only wanted to pursue the beast with more ferocity. Somewhere in this pursuit, his meager feelings turned to obsession. He wanted to own Shizuo Heiwajima, he wanted him all to himself, the only one and he would make him see, even if he had to hurt him to make him see-

 

Izaya let out a sigh and a cloud of smoke dissipated in the air. Shizuo despised him, that much was obvious. Hell, he was trying to kill him. It was after that business with the Dollars that the blond got involved with the Russians, Slon and that Vorona woman. At first he’d just been helping them train, he was a good opponent after all, it was only when Tsukumoya set a bounty on Izaya’s head that Shizuo took the Russians up on their offer of employment. Izaya found out that the beast was on his tail through Tsukumoya, who sent a text simply reading ‘ _Your monster is coming to kill you. Start running xx’._ The information broker felt a brief pang of sadness - he didn’t think Shizuo hated him that ferociously. Sure, they fought in the street before but the blond never had that murderous intent in his eyes like he did now.

 

The smartphone beside him buzzed loudly. Izaya picked it up and rolled his eyes when he saw his enemy’s name appear on the screen. Well, nickname - Izaya had chosen to label Shizuo ‘Monster Who Is Trying To Kill Me’ in his contact list. He felt his stomach twist into nervous knots as he opened the message.

 

_‘Wrong move.’_

 

Izaya grimaced and pulled his flick knife out of his pocket. Surely the beast needed to rest, he wouldn’t have followed him tonight. Perhaps Celty had told him - no, surely she wouldn’t betray him like that. Tsukumoya was a more likely informant. He shook his head and tried to clear his alcohol-hazed mind. Not tonight, he groaned inwardly, he needed a break to sort himself out. It was barely ten minutes before his front door swung open and the monster stepped inside, slamming it shut behind him, hard enough for the wood to crack. How many doors had he gone through since knowing the beast, Izaya thought, irritably. Shizuo was smoking, the cigarette dangling from his lips in much the same way as Izaya’s and he was dressed in the same outfit he always wore, covered by a navy pea coat to keep out the Autumnal chill. Shizuo gave Izaya an unpleasant smile and crossed the room with his hands in his pockets.

 

“Learn to knock, asshole,” the brunet snapped, glaring at the other man as he approached.

 

“So what, you’re smoking now?” Shizuo chuckled. “Copying me again?”

 

Izaya scoffed as Shizuo took a seat in the armchair opposite him. “Get fucked.”

 

“You know better than most that I am the one who does the fucking, flea,” he replied, bluntly.

 

The smaller man swallowed a large gulp of wine and gestured to the bottle on the table with his knife. Shizuo nodded and poured himself a glass. Izaya didn’t like how calm he was acting, he would rather the fight start as soon as possible.

 

“Don't be so crude,” he snarled, irritably. He waved the hand holding the knife in the air carelessly and gave a sigh. “Then again, that kind of talk is only fitting for a monster like yourself.”

 

“Shut up, flea,” Shizuo snapped. He downed his glass of wine and set it back on the coffee table. Before Izaya could react, the blond reached across the surface and snatched his phone.

 

“Hey, give-” the information broker began, lurching forward. He swung the knife down but missed the blond’s hand and stabbed it into the table hard enough that he could not pull it free again. Shizuo crushed the technology beneath his fist, hard enough to bend the metal and shatter the glass screen. Izaya grit his teeth together angrily - that was his last mobile to hand, so he wouldn’t be able to call for help again.

 

“You’re not getting away this time, Izaya,” Shizuo grunted, dropping the remains of the phone onto the floor.  “Now, what would you prefer - I kill you straight out, or do you wanna fuck one last time before I crack your head open?”

 

Izaya’s eyes widened - he hadn’t been expecting that. Part of him wanted to spit at Shizuo, to tell him to go fuck himself and get on with it. But, there was another voice in his head urging him to accept the offer, spurned on by images of the past. He knew that Shizuo tended to lose control of himself in the throes of pleasure - perhaps he could incapacitate him and slip away. Or at least pretend to leave, he could easily hide in the fire escape or on the roof and wait until Shizuo was gone so that he could pack his belongings. The means to an end, he thought, that was all this was. A way to satisfy and eventually purge his stupid infatuation with the monster. He had no idea what the beast got out of this and he didn't muse on it for too long or ask, for fear of what he would discover. Perhaps he felt the same crippling loneliness as Izaya, though he seriously doubted it. Shizuo probably just wanted to get off, the mindless animal.

 

“I guess having a little fun before my untimely demise would be amusing,” Izaya chuckled. “Give me the wine.”

 

“Don't tell me what to do,” Shizuo said, his tone oddly playful. He poured himself a glass of wine and began to drink without handing it to the information broker. “Izaya, _dear_.”

 

Izaya frowned and flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. “You seem in a good mood.”

 

The blond smirked and took a large gulp of wine. Izaya couldn't help but wrinkle his nose - the alcohol was far too expensive to be chugged away like a cheap beer.

 

“Yeah, I'm in a pretty good mood,” he replied, sinking the rest of the wine in a few gulps. He let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his hand with the back of his mouth.

 

“Y’know why?”

 

“Oh I don't know,” Izaya answered, placing his glass back on the table. “Did you finally learn how to read?”

 

Shizuo shook his head and his smile dipped slightly in annoyance. “I know how to read.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Shut up,” the blond growled. He stood and took a few steps across the room so that he was stood close to Izaya. The information broker looked up at him and raised a brow. Slowly, Shizuo leaned down and rested his hands on the couch on either side of Izaya’s shoulders. The smaller man stiffened but his irritating smirk never faltered. “It's because I get to fuck the living shit outta you, Iz-a-ya. And then I get to kill ya’.”

 

“Shizu-chan is awfully forward tonight,” he murmured, tilting his head to one side. The beast’s warm breath was hitting his cheek, causing pleasant shivers to run down his spine.

 

“Don't call me that,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes. “You piss me off, flea.”

 

Izaya laughed softly and raised a hand so that he could sharply strike Shizuo’s cheek. The blond’s eyes widened slightly but he barely moved from the force of the hit. He growled angrily and fisted the front of Izaya’s black shirt, dragging the man off the sofa and up against his chest. The smaller man was still laughing, even though his feet were flailing in the air and there was a tell-tale vein of rage pulsing in Shizuo’s forehead.

 

“You little bastard,” he snarled, his other hand moving to grasp the man’s hair. Shizuo pulled his head back by the strands making him gasp, a sound the blond found pleasing. He let out a breath and pressed his cheek against Izaya’s so that he could speak, gruff and low, in his ear. “After all that shit you’ve pulled over the years you should know I’m going to relish this, I'm really gonna enjoy it.”

 

Izaya shuddered when the other man bit down on the curve of his neck and he swiftly retrieved his flick knife from the pocket of his jeans. He jabbed the point into Shizuo’s hand, chuckling through the pleasured gasps.

 

“I won’t go down without a fight, Shizu-chan.”

 

They were never careful, there was not an iota of care or romance between them. Each touch, even if physically soft, seemed violent - Izaya hadn’t expected any less of the other. Even when their relationship was romantic, he often woke to a torso covered in deep bites and stark crimson scratches and he frequently found his voice little more than a harsh whisper for days after due to the crushing hold on his neck that Shizuo was so fond of. He didn’t think of himself as submissive, he always fought tooth and nail against the other and made a point of leaving marks in the most inconvenient of places. But in terms of damage done, Shizuo always managed to gain the upper hand. It wasn’t a surprise, he was a monster, an overpowered brute who could crush metal beneath his fists and barely felt knives enter his skin.

 

The monster shoved his lips against Izaya’s and groaned loudly, forcing his tongue into the other man’s mouth. This didn’t change Shizuo’s opinion of Izaya, he still thought of him as a vile creature, a waste of an attractive form and a brilliant mind. Quite frankly, he couldn’t believe that he had once believed the false face Izaya presented, that he readily ate the lies the flea spat his way. When he found out the truth about Izaya, about the things he did, Shizuo was devastated. Even though he loved him, he couldn't in his right mind stay with such an evil thing.

 

The hatred he felt toward the other man never left him, not even in an intimate moment such as this, nor the kiss the previous night. Shizuo would never call them intimate, of course. Sex with Izaya was more like a fight than anything vaguely romantic. It made the blond feel powerful, in this enclosed space - Izaya’s space - he had finally caught the flea he had been chasing for such a long time. Watching his face scrunch up into ugly, uncontrollable pleasure was marvellous but he doubted it would be as glorious as watching him die.

 

“This is the last time,” Shizuo grunted, biting kisses down Izaya’s neck. The informant hissed loudly and the beast lifted him further off the ground so he could drag him into the bedroom. “‘I'm not playing nice tonight.”

 

“Did you ever, my dear monster?” Izaya laughed. There was a waver in his voice, a slight nervousness that only Shizuo would notice.

 

-0-

 

That evening, Shizuo was particularly merciless.

 

Drool dripped from behind the cloth gag that had been tied around his mouth. He couldn’t feel his hands anymore, not after they had been tied so tightly behind his back for so long. A blindfold had been knotted around his head, shielding his vision. That was one of the monster’s extras Izaya was wary of. Izaya wanted to keep an eye on Shizuo, he wanted to see what he was doing so he couldn’t be surprised. The tie around his wrists was easily undone, so he didn't worry too much about that.  Izaya still couldn’t be sure why he let Shizuo have his way - morbid curiosity, perhaps, a desire to push his own boundaries, maybe. More likely it was simply because he enjoyed it, he always had been a bit of a masochist.

 

From the feel of the soft carpet beneath him, Izaya gathered they were in his bedroom but he couldn’t be sure. His knees ached from sitting in position for so long. Izaya had lost all sense of time - it felt like hours that he had been sat there, waiting. Shizuo was taunting him by prolonging his suffering, he could tell. He was surprised that the blond possessed such patience and even more surprised at his own submission to such treatment. It was strange but the feeling of losing control was enthralling. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears and his breath was starting to come out in desperate pants. There were great periods of stillness, where the only sounds were his own ragged, wet breaths from behind the gag and the wine glugging into Shizuo’s glass.

 

Every now and then the monster would toy with him. Sometimes he would be gentle, he would kiss his preferred areas of the broker’s body - his eyelids, his strained, sopping mouth, his neck. More often he would hurt the brunet - he’d slap his face, pull his hair, pinch, scratch, bite. Shizuo seemed to enjoy that the most, giving short, wanton groans whenever Izaya screamed into the gag. By the flush over his skin, Izaya enjoyed the pain too. The most blissful agony was that Shizuo inflicted on his cock, constantly bringing him close to completion, then grabbing ahold of the base so he could not come. Izaya didn’t know how many times this had happened now, only that his mind was dizzy with torment. The monster ordered him to kiss his feet at some earlier point in the night - an order Izaya flat out refused to do out of pride. The torment only grew worse the longer he stayed silent.

 

Shizuo grinned down at the smaller man who was currently panting on the floor. The blond was really enjoying himself, he planned to drag this out as long as possible. Though his ultimate goal was to kill the information broker, he didn't see the harm in having some fun - Izaya had always been a great lay. If he were more honest with himself he would have admitted that he missed this. He crouched down and leaned forward on his hands and knees so that he could pull off the blindfold, letting it rest on the ground next to them. The broker’s eyes were wide and watery, a very pleasing sight for the other man. He reached over and cupped the man’s chin with his hand, splaying his fingers out over his face. Izaya seemed to tense and started making uneasy grunts through the gag.

 

“It’s nice to see you cryin’. So pathetic. I think I’ll keep the blindfold off from now on,” Shizuo laughed, slapping his palm lightly against the other’s cheek. Izaya glared at him silently. “You think you’re ready to kiss my feet yet?”

 

Slowly, Shizuo reached behind the information broker’s head and untied the gag, allowing it to fall to the ground in a wet heap. Izaya coughed violently and, as he was in an unsteady position on his knees, began to topple forward. The blond moved onto his knees so that he caught the other man’s shoulders and held him upright. The two of them knelt, eye to eye, silent. After a moment, Shizuo smoothed a hand through the brunet’s hair.

 

“Fuckin’ flea,” he growled, tugging the strands gently. The soft touches soon turned rough and Shizuo curled his fist into the dark locks, pulling on it sharply. Izaya let out a hiss of pain and grit his teeth together. “Answer me.”

 

“I-I, agh!” he groaned, wincing. “Such an unpleasant beast.”

 

Shizuo stared at him with a happy smile on his face. Anger surged in Izaya’s chest, as if they were in the middle of one of their fights and he refused to be broken by this monster. He mustered an unpleasant grin, knowing that he would regret it later, and spat in Shizuo’s face. It hit just below his left eye and began to slide down his cheek. Izaya drew back slightly, smirking, searching Shizuo’s unmoving face for signs of anger. Instead, the blond’s tongue slid out from between his lips and drew the saliva into his mouth. The brunet watched in horror as his nasty grin was returned by the monster, along with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

 

“That wasn’t very nice, was it, flea?” Shizuo said, wiping the excess off his cheek with the back of his sleeve. “I thought you might want to just get it over with so I’d fuck you. But hey, I was rather hopin’ you would challenge me further - you know I love it when you fight back.”

 

Izaya opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when Shizuo suddenly let go of his shoulders and stood up. Without the steadying hold, the brunet toppled forward. His arms were still tied behind his back, which meant he fell forward and smacked his face against the floor. He was relieved that the carpet was thick so he didn’t do any damage but this relief dissipated as soon as he felt Shizuo’s shoe rest on the side of his head. Izaya looked up as best he could but could only glance the beast’s trouser leg.

 

“It almost seems like you’re enjoyin’ yourself too, flea,” Shizuo chuckled, twisting his shoes into the other man’s face.

 

“As if I’d ever kiss the feet of a monster.”

 

Shizuo laughed gruffly and moved away from Izaya to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re rather stupid, aren’t you? Things coulda’ been so much easier if you had just said it. You coulda’ lied.”

 

“I’m not a liar.”

 

“Fuck off, you’re the most dishonest person I’ve ever met,” Shizuo laughed, rolling his eyes. Malice seeped out of his tone.

 

“Says the monster hiding behind a human mask,” Izaya grunted, a smiling rising on his face. “You know, people will see your true face when they find out you're a _murderer_.”

 

“I'm not a monster,” Shizuo snarled.

 

The blond clambered to his feet. The sense of power rushing through him was reaching immense heights, no-one gave him this feeling quite like Izaya did. In these moments, beating his nemesis, a man so well matched to him - fuck, the high was intoxicating. He placed his hand under the brunet’s tied arms and yanked the man to his feet. It was barely a second before Izaya was pushed, face first, onto his bed. With a growl, the information broker scrambled up the mattress and managed to twist onto his front just in time to see the blond-haired man straddle his hips. With a dark snicker, Shizuo pushed against his chest and forced him down into the bed. Izaya’s arms were twisted backward painfully under the pressure, causing him to groan loudly in pain.

 

“Thought you liked it rough, flea?”

 

Izaya winced but forced a nasty sneer onto his face. “The rougher the better.”

 

The monster scowled and pressed down on his chest again so that his arms were painfully strained. He hated how Izaya always managed to bounce back, how he refused to be beaten. He leaned down close to his face, so that his breath was warm against Izaya’s flushed skin.

 

“Your call, Iz-a-ya.”

  
  
  
  



	4. Smothered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more plot. And some smut. This is probably going to end up longer than I intended because I'm enjoying this alternate story-line.

_Ikebukuro was as vibrant as ever, he always loved the lights of sounds of the city. A thick blanket of snow had settled over the metropolis during the daytime and still clung to the streets and buildings when night fell._

 

_Izaya pulled his coat tighter around his body and strode further into the crowd, heading towards the end of the main road. He made a sharp right, swiftly avoiding a gaggle of familiar teenage girls who giggled whenever he was five feet within their vicinity, and continued down the side-street until he reached an ornate wooden door set into a plain concrete building. Above the door was a black sign with a simple silver icon emblazoned in the centre. This place, 'The Empty Frame', was a new, upmarket, exclusive - meaning ‘yakuza’ - bar and gentleman's dining hall. Just the sort of place Shiki Haruya would have asked to meet. Izaya opened the door to the bar and nodded curtly at the waiter who stood close to the entrance. The waiter held out his arm for the information broker’s coat but he held up a hand and shook his head._

 

_“I’ll keep this on,” he said. “Izaya Orihara, I’m here to meet a friend.”_

 

_The older man looked down distastefully at Izaya's fur lined jacket, clearly put out by the broker’s lack of manners, but ceased as soon as he caught the frightful smirk he was giving him. Despite his fragile-looking body and laissez-faire attitude, Izaya knew just the right expressions to incite fear in others. Well, everyone except Shizu-chan and certain members of the Awakusu-Kai._

 

_"Mr Haruya is expecting me. Find him," Izaya murmured, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt and pulling the creases from the arms. Even as a youth he had an air of authority that demanded respect so the waiter nodded and dashed behind the curtain that separated the reception area from the rest of the hall. Izaya folded his arms across his chest and frowned. This wasn't how it should be - Shiki should be coming to him, waiting for him, not the other way around. Why should he have to validate himself? He was an adult now, he had proved his worth over the years and he wanted respect. A moment passed until the man returned, holding open the curtain to allow Izaya to pass._

 

_The waiter guided him through a dark corridor, lined with a number of shining silver doors. A few were open, and he could see that each contained a set of leather sofas and a small, but well-stocked, bar. Inside were assorted different characters, some older men lounging after a long day at work, others talking business and some entertaining women. Izaya couldn't help but admire the secluded layout - the club seemed to value privacy for the clients above everything else._

 

_"Mr Haruya, your visitor," the waiter announced, raising his arm to show the broker into Shiki’s room._

 

_"Thank you, that will be all," a smooth voice called out from inside. The waiter nodded and half ran down the corridor away from Izaya, leaving him alone with the Yakuza executive._

 

_The information broker entered the room and smiled unpleasantly at the dark-haired man standing opposite him. The room was fairly large, containing a small fireplace, a number of armchairs and a bar identical to those he had seen earlier. Shiki was stood in front of the fireplace, hands folded elegantly in front of him, pointed face observing him with a blank expression._

 

_"You’re late," he said, stepping toward Izaya. "I said seven thirty."_

 

_“Oh really?” Izaya chuckled, looking down at his wrist so as to mime checking his non-existent watch. “I heard eight.”_

 

_Shiki raised a brow and shook his head. “Your youth makes you arrogant.”_

 

_"I am young of body, Shiki. It makes my power no less valid," he replied, coolly. He despised when the older man treated him like a child - Shiki brought it up so often that Izaya believed he might be doing it to provoke him. “So, why am I here? Business or pleasure?”_

 

_"Please take a seat," the older man said, gesturing to the chairs. “Do you want a drink?”_

 

_"Gin and tonic, no ice," Izaya replied, sinking down into one of the armchairs next to the fireplace. He shrugged off his coat and began to warm his cold hands in front of the dancing flames._

 

_"Of course," Shiki said, moving toward the drinks cabinet. After pouring, shaking and mixing their drinks, the executive took the seat opposite and let out a deep breath. "I must say, I am surprised to see you so well."_

 

_“What do you mean?” Izaya asked, raising a brow._

 

_Shiki took a large gulp of his drink and slid Izaya’s across the small table that was situated in the centre of the circle of armchairs. “Word on the streets is that Shizuo Heiwajima was chasing you through the streets. I know what you two get like.”_

 

_"Worrying about my well-being, Shiki? It doesn't suit you," Izaya snickered, taking up the glass of gin. Shiki just stared at him blankly - he hated how hard it was to read the older man. It made it much more difficult to manipulate him. "Actually, Shizu-chan was the reason for my lateness. He was surprisingly relentless this evening."_

 

_"I see. Did you get hurt?”_

 

_"Not really," he began, raising his drink to his lips. “Just few scrapes. That beast will never catch me."_

 

_The executive took another sip of his drink and shook his head. He removed a pack of cigarettes from his top pocket and plucked a single tube out so that he could light it. When the smoke started to plume out of his mouth and nose, his eyes flicked back up to meet Izaya’s. The broker tensed slightly under the weight of his gaze - something was up, Shiki was being far too quiet._

 

_“Are you quite alright, Sh-”_

 

_“There’s that arrogance again,” Shiki interrupted. He paused to take another drag of his cigarette. As he spoke tendrils of smoke dripped out from between his lips. “It would be a mistake to underestimate Heiwajima. He’ll kill you one day.”_

 

_“Perhaps,” Izaya mused, smiling wryly. “But only on the day that I choose to die.”_

 

_“You overestimate yourself,” the older man stated, taking a sip of his drink._

 

_“Your lack of faith in me is insulting,” Izaya laughed. Despite his joviality he was annoyed, he felt as though he wasn't being taken seriously. “Shizu-chan is merely a nuisance.”_

 

_Shiki hummed and stabbed his cigarette roughly into the ashtray on the table. Izaya almost flinched. The executive smoked a far nicer brand than Shizuo but the two men both inhaled slowly, both let the plumes of smoke roll out of their mouths rather than blowing sharply. Their actions were languid, each tobacco stained breath appreciated and devoured. Izaya detested smoking, not because he minded the habit, but because it reminded him of the two men he could never predict._

 

_“Orihara, I need to ask you something serious,” Shiki sighed, leaning back in his seat. “And I expect you not to lie to me.”_

 

_“Ah, my dear Shiki,” Izaya replied, mouth curling into a smile. He gestured to his own hip and gave Shiki a pointed look. “How could I lie to you when you have such a dangerous piece attached to your belt?”_

 

_“Ever observant,” the executive noted. He didn’t smile, but his lips curled up slightly in one corner and the seriousness in his stare lifted to a more amused light. It only stayed for a fleeting second, then his gaze hardened and he let out a short sigh. “Did you cause Akane Awakusu to run away from home?”_

 

_“No,” Izaya replied, lacing his hands together over his lap. “Why would you assume that?”_

 

_Shiki eyed him carefully, looking for any signs of dishonesty. It was difficult to pick such a behaviour out of a face that had never known truth. “We found out that she was talking online with someone called ‘Nakura’ a year ago, around the time she left. You frequented online chatrooms a lot, don’t you?”_

 

_“Yes. But I tend to read, rather than converse,” the broker replied, tilting his head slightly to the right. “I am sorry to hear about what happened.”_

 

_“Yeah, we all are,” Shiki answered. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his short hair. “We all loved that little girl. Dougan and Mikiya don’t really talk about it much anymore.”_

 

_Izaya looked down at his hands and ignored the odd pang of guilt in his stomach. “It is unfortunate she ran into the Kyumoto-kai.”_

 

_“Whether or not that was accidental, we’ll never know,” the executive stated. “But whoever Nakura is, they’ve got her blood on their hands.”_

 

_The information broker swallowed and glanced back up at Shiki, who was peering down into his drink. “I take it the Kyumoto-kai got the war they wanted?”_

 

_Shiki snorted and took a sharp sip of his drink. “And then some. It took a while but our people decimated the entire syndicate. Still, that won’t bring her back.”_

 

_“My sincerest condolences,” Izaya said, softly. “I must assure you that I had nothing to do with her death.”_

 

_Shiki stared at him for a moment longer, searching his dark eyes. Izaya shifted and crossed one leg over the other - he didn’t have anything to do with Akane’s death, not directly. He wasn’t the one who murdered her, he simply encouraged her to leave and informed the rival yakuza of her whereabouts. It was a miscalculation, that was all. How was he to know that the Kyumoto-kai’s intentions were far darker than he expected? There was no blood on his hands, no, there couldn’t be._

 

_“Do you know a Tsukumoya Shinichi?”_

 

_Izaya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Yes, he’s a fellow observer.”_

 

_The older man nodded and took another sip of his drink. Izaya frowned - did he know about Akane -no, he couldn’t. Izaya was certain the other informant couldn’t know of his involvement in that affair, he’d been too careful. Something else then?  He hadn’t heard from Tsukumoya in awhile, not since that strange message about Shizu-chan coming to kill him. It had been a week since that text and nothing had happened so far, so he assumed the strange data broker was bluffing. A sense of anxiety washed over him - what was going on here?_

 

_“I see,” Shiki murmured. He placed his glass down on the table and laced his hands together in his lap. “He contacted me yesterday to let me know that there was a bounty on your head. One that he himself set.”_

 

_Izaya felt his blood run cold. “What?”_

 

_“I’m sure you know what a bounty is, Oriha-”_

 

_“Yes, obviously I do,” Izaya snapped, impatiently. Shiki shot him a dark look and he took in a deep breath to try and calm down. “Tsukumoya contacted me too. I thought he was playing a joke on me. He said something about-”_

 

_“Shizuo Heiwajima?” Shiki asked, raising a brow. The information broker nodded, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Yeah, Tsukumoya said that the bounty was fair game to everyone, but that Heiwajima would probably be the one to get to you. I think he wants him to find you first, to be honest. Everyone knows that guy wants to rip your guts out.”_

 

_Izaya placed his drink down on the table and rested his hands on his knees. The weight of his flick knife was heavy in his pocket but he knew that it would be useless if Shiki decided to draw a firearm - the bounty was fair game, after all. He gave the executive a wry smile._

 

_“Will you be trying to kill me today, Shiki?” he asked, the words coming out far sharper than he intended._

 

_Shiki stared at him silently, then shook his head. “No, you’re more useful to me alive.”_

 

_A lazy smile stretched over Izaya’s face. “Well, thank you. Glad to know I have the Awakusu-Kai on my side.”_

 

_“Not exactly,” Shiki replied, stonily. Izaya’s smile faltered and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We don’t want to get involved in this shit, Orihara. To do so would mean to directly oppose this Shinichi guy and the Russian mob who are working with Heiwajima. We don’t want that sort of fuss. Thus, our resources are not currently at your disposal. We can begin our business again when this is all over.”_

 

_Izaya glowered at the older man and stood up swiftly, snatching his coat up from the back of the chair. Shiki watched him silently and pulled another cigarette from the carton. The broker watched as he lit the tip and it hissed into life, smoke pluming from the burn and dissipating between them._

 

_“I see,” Izaya stated, his voice an unpleasant hiss. “I’ll call you when I have Shizu-chan’s head on a plate.”_

 

_“And Tsukumoya?” Shiki asked, taking a drag of his smoke._

 

_Izaya waved a hand and pulled his coat on. “There’s no catching that guy. To be perfectly honest I don’t think he’s even human. Just a bunch of ones and zeros with a shitty consciousness. He’ll get bored of this eventually - he’s probably only doing it for fun. That’s his reason for doing everything.”_

 

_The executive nodded and tapped ash into the tray on the table. “Best of luck, info-broker. I hope you survive this one.”_

 

_Izaya smirked and turned on his heel, striding swiftly out of the room. Shiki remained in his seat and watched as the smoke curled up into the air. It was quiet in the room, the only sound was the soft jazz music coming from the small auditorium in the main bar. He sighed deeply and glanced at the door Izaya had just left through. He’d know the broker since he was a child and despite appearances, he cared about him. The younger man was stubborn and vicious but Shiki respected his intelligence and his ambition. However, he truly believed that Izaya would be defeated by his own arrogance. He had seen the fights between the broker and Heiwajima in the streets - it would be dangerous to overlook the blond as a mindless beast. Shiki let the smoke fill his lungs but it failed to soothe him like it usually did. He hoped Izaya would survive this one - but he wouldn’t hold his breath._

 

-0-

 

Izaya choked on the length down his throat and screwed his eyes shut. It never used to be like this. Shizuo used to be - _was_ \- a man he loved, someone he wanted to do all the shitty bits of romance with but he spoiled it, he knew he spoiled it. A ‘good man’ like Shizuo with a hateful person such as he would never work out. This was all they deserved. This was all they could ever be.

 

Shizuo grit his teeth together as Izaya worked his tongue skillfully over the head of his cock. He wanted what had been so very much, he wanted to take Izaya up into his arms and tell him it was okay, that he was safe - but he couldn't. Izaya was poison, wasn't he? He lied, betrayed, he was _rotten._ Shizuo wanted desperately to tell the man whose mouth he was fucking hard that he loved him. He wanted to stop he ferocious movements and hold his face gently, he wanted to kiss him - but there was a chasm between them now. One filled with hate and fire and razor-edge rage that he knew neither of them could let go.

 

Shizuo leaned over the man, he drew his cock out of his mouth and threw him over the bed, sick of waiting. The broker was now on his front, so he grabbed his hips and pulled them up so that he could grind his arousal into the other man's ass. Izaya was gasping and grabbing his own length now that the blond had removed his restraints. He tutted and grabbed the informant’s hands, pinning them at the base of his spine so that he could not touch himself. Izaya whined as Shizuo pushed into him with only a large wad of saliva for lubricant- it hurt. It fucking hurt. But _fuck,_ Izaya thought, fuck that feels like Shizuo.

 

“F-fuck,” the broker groaned, his muscles clenching tight around the other man. He moved over Izaya's back and laced a hand through his dark hair, tugging on the strands roughly. His other hand wrapped around his hip and held it tightly as he began to move back and forth.

 

Shizuo grunted as the informant twisted slightly and he pressed his head down into the sheets so that he could hold him still. “Stop wriggling, damn flea.”

 

“M-move already,” came the muffled response.

 

Though filtered through material, Shizuo could still hear the sneer in his voice. How he hated that tone, he remembered the first time he heard it vividly still.

 

_“How could you lie to me?”_

 

_All the innocence melted from his face and all that remained was a vicious, Cheshire smirk. When he spoke, his words dripped with vitriol._

 

_“How could you believe me?”_

 

He thrust forward angrily, clenching his fingers tighter in Izaya’s hair and twisting painfully, hard enough to make the smaller man gasp. With a growl, he thrusted relentlessly into the broker, who was now audibly panting against the sheets. Shizuo yanked his head up, forcing Izaya to curve his back and angle his shoulders against his chest as he continued to fuck into him. From what little Shizuo could see of his face, he was flushed and sweating and filthy groans were spilling from his swollen lips.

 

Izaya rolled his hips and clenched around the cock inside him, causing the larger man to hiss. Shizuo drew back the hand resting on Izaya’s hip and slapped him firmly on the ass. The hit was hard enough to leave a bright red print in its wake and the broker moaned despite the pain.

 

“Such a - fuck - such a masochist,” Shizuo growled.  He grit his teeth together as he felt pleasure start to spike inside his lower abdomen. God he missed this - the way Izaya gasped, the softness of his sickly pale skin, the slight flush across his face and the way his wet mouth hung open as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Everything, he missed everything that was and could never be again. He had to remind himself that the man who he now had his arms wrapped around was _not_ the man he fell in love with. This was some other creature, one who dealt in underhand deals and caused chaos wherever he went. He was the one who-

 

“Uh, _fuck,_ Shizu-chan,” Izaya breathed. His body was shaking beneath the blonde and he was clawing at Shizuo’s thighs as if he needed something to hold on to. “Fuck, I'm gonna-”

 

“Izaya,” Shizuo groaned. He released the grip on the broker’s hair and let him fall forward onto his elbows, where he started to fist the sheets. The blond picked up the pace and crashed his hips wildly into Izaya, loving the sounds and whimpers that it caused.

 

Somewhere in that chaotic thrashing, he felt Izaya tense around him and heard the man shriek his name as he came violently into the sheets. Though his body began slightly slack, Shizuo continued until he too felt the pressure in his abdomen burst and pleasure all but blinded him. He choked out some unintelligible noises that they both knew were Izaya’s name and fell down beside the broker who was still shuddering from his high.

 

“That was,” Shizuo panted, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck, you're so good, flea.”

 

When he turned his head Izaya was knelt over him, peering down with narrowed eyes. The broker smiled briefly, an unhappy, sad smile that reached his eyes in a way his smirks and sneers never did.

 

“Not good enough to save my neck, I take it?” he asked, teasingly.

 

Izaya saw the hesitation in Shizuo’s eyes and felt an odd pang in his chest. When the blond had been climaxing and his attention was elsewhere, the broker managed to reach down into his bedside table and grab the auto injector filled with tranquiliser that Shinra had given him a long time ago. The doctor told him to use it if he found himself in trouble, he knew the kinds of situations Izaya got himself into, but he'd never needed it. Which was lucky now that he had a six foot monster who was ready to kill him in his bed. He’d seen Shinra use something similar on Shizuo before, on one of his many rages through the doctor’s apartment, so he knew it should be fairly instantaneous.

 

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, softly. His tone was gentle enough to bring the other man out of his thoughts. “I can't forgive you for what you did.”

 

“Not forgiving and murder are rather different things, don't you think you're being a little extreme?”

 

“You sent people after me, someone you supposedly lov- uh. And just because you wanted those people out of the way and you knew I'd beat them to a fucking pulp!” he snarled, a vein throbbing visibly in his forehead. “I could have died.”

 

“Pfft, as if they'd have been able to hurt you,” Izaya chuckled. He gripped the auto injector tightly, hiding it out of view beneath the the crumpled duvet. “I knew you could handle them but I could hardly come right out and tell you all my secrets could I? It was easier to let you believe that there was some unknown character sending them your way rather than you knowing it was the person in your bed.”

 

“You got Kasuka involved,” Shizuo said, expression darkening.

 

“That-”

 

Shizuo shook his head. “You- fuck, that little girl Izaya, what you did-”

 

“What happened wasn't my fault,” he retorted, carelessly. “I wasn’t involved.”

 

“You encouraged her to run away,” the blond snapped, sitting upright. Izaya noted the way his muscles of his torso rippled underneath his skin and placed his hand over the auto injector. He needed to act soon before Shizuo’s rage overtook him. “I’ve no doubt in my mind that it was your fault.”

 

Izaya felt a surge of guilt which quickly turned into anger. He lunged forward and stabbed the auto injector straight into the large, bulging vein in Shizuo’s neck. The beast yelled and gripped the device, cracking it swiftly between his strong fingers, but it was already too late. He felt his muscles spasm then relax completely and he found himself struggling to move. Izaya was already clambering off the bed, way out of reach. Shizuo collapsed down onto the bed and tried to keep his heavy eyelids open.

 

“Stupid monster,” Izaya hissed, throwing open his wardrobe. He pulled on some clothes and then began stuffing others into a rucksack. Along with these items, he gathered a few more auto injectors and the spare phones he kept in his bedside table. He’d get his laptop on the way out and then head to Shinra’s for the rest of the night to formulate further plans.

 

“F-Fl-” Shizuo stammered, desperately trying to cling to his fleeting consciousness.

 

Izaya shrugged on his backpack and moved to stand at the end of the bed so that he could observe the blond. His eyes were sluggish and heavy but still open, despite Izaya stabbing him with enough tranquiliser to stop an elephant. The information broker reached forward so that he could run a hand through the man’s dyed hair and trail his fingers down his face until he reached his lips. They opened slightly and Izaya felt the other man’s laboured breath roll out of his mouth between his fingers.

                       

“It wasn’t my fault,” he stated. He wasn’t certain if he was reassuring himself or Shizuo - did it matter? Did either of them care? “I’m barely more than smoke at this point, Shizu-chan. You’ll never catch me.”

 

Izaya turned away from the blond and headed toward the door. He paused briefly and turned back to look at Shizuo from the doorframe.

 

“But keep hunting,” he said, with a small smile. “I hope you catch me one day. I probably deserve it.”

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Inhospitable places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely comments! This chapter will focus more on Izaya and the next will be more on Shizuo/explaining the past a little.

_Can't stop running - not now, not now._

 

His feet pounded against the concrete of the wet pavement, a steady beat that matched his panic heart. Rain poured down from the heavens, splattering against the stone of the city and through the thin material of his jacket. He couldn't go to Shinra’s, no that'd be too obvious. The Awakusu-Kai had made it quite clear that he was unwelcome, so that was a no go. Izaya turned left at a street corner and headed down an alleyway, toward a taxi rank.

 

There was only one place he could go.

 

-0-

 

It had been a long day for Namie Yagiri. She had endured two days of watching her beloved Seiji be _fawned_ over by that stupid little bitch, then her train had been late which meant she had gotten stuck in the rain without an umbrella. By the time she finally arrived home that evening she wanted to punch something. Her apartment was two stops away from her brother’s house so she could keep an eye on him. It was located on the first floor of a grand skyscraper - she had never been too fond of heights.

 

The woman settled down at her desk, now freshly-showered and changed into a pair of pajamas, and allowed herself a couple of deep breaths. Izaya had given her an enormous amount of data to analyse at the before he fled from his apartment months ago, much to her annoyance. For a moment, the aggravating informant lingered in her thoughts and she wondered if he was still alive, but she soon shook them away and opened her laptop. His welfare didn't matter so long as she was paid on time. It was a good thing she was so organised and had preemptively plotted most of her work or this could have taken all year. Her stomach grumbled angrily and she placed a hand over it. Damn, she was hungry. Luckily, she had brought home some leftovers from the previous evening with Seiji, which were still wrapped up in foil in the fridge. As she crossed the living room to move into the kitchen, she noticed a car parked on the opposite side of the street, a black cab by the looks of it. The headlights were dimmed and from the dull whirring of the engine, she could tell it was still running. How odd.

 

The woman thought no more of it and moved back to her desk, unwrapping the foil and placing the dish next to her work. She smiled at the leftover meatballs, thinking of her brother. This had always been his favourite thing to eat when they were growing up. Just as Namie raised a forkful of food to her lips, her phone buzzed loudly. She quickly snatched it up. Who on Earth would be texting her this late at night?

 

_I can seeeee you. Enjoying your food? X_

 

Namie physically recoiled at the message that appeared on the small screen and dropped the phone back on the desk. Startled, she stood and only just managed to catch her chair before it clattered to the floor behind her. Her heart raced as she righted the chair fully and snatched her phone back up. Ever since the event at 60-Kai Street she had been wary of the people around her and had changed her phone number multiple times toeeE4 avoid detection. Only Izaya and Seiji had her as a contact now - but this number was reading as unknown.

 

 _'Who is this?'_ she typed, furiously, before pressing send.

 

She felt her cheeks flush with anger and she began to pace across her living room floor, holding her hands against her temples. Who could this be? That little brat who formed the Dollars? The Dullahan? Maybe that bitch Mika? Her phone buzzed at the side of her head, so she quickly brought it down to eye level.

 

_Aw, Namie. Did I scare you by using a new number? Let me in. X_

 

Namie's stomach turned. It was Izaya, obviously, she could tell by the tone. She turned her head to the side and peered back out of the window at the black cab. Anger filled her head - he was waiting outside. What the fuck did he want at this time of night? Her phone rattled again.

 

_Let me in. Don’t keep your boss waiting or I might have to dock your pay._

 

Namie almost screamed at her phone. The audacity, the impudence - how dare he? The brunette drew in a deep breath and turned to the window. She stomped across the room and angrily drew the curtains across the glass, blocking the city from sight. Before turning away, she noted that the car had disappeared. Izaya never came to her home so something must be wrong. She thought to message someone, though she soon cast the thought away. This was something she had to deal with herself, she shouldn't have to rely on anyone for anything. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her she didn’t have anyone to rely on anyway. She stood stock still, her face flushed with anger, unwilling to see that awful, evil, arrogant, stupid son of a bitch.

 

A set of knocks on the front door drew her attention.

 

"What the hel-" she murmured to herself. She was cut off by another knock. It was definitely coming from the front door. The woman groaned and held her head in her hands. Her mind was racing - what did he want from her? She knew it could be nothing good, why else would he be visiting at nine thirty at night? The knocks ceased for a while, so she crept into the darkened hallway and peered at the door. Perhaps she could pretend she wasn't in. From her crouched position, she could see the outline of someone through the small pane of frosted glass inlaid in the wood. The bastard must have charmed the receptionist in the lobby, as the elevator only worked with a keycard. Perhaps he would go away if she kept quiet enough. She scowled whenher phone buzzed again.

 

_I'll knock one more time. Open the door or I'll have your filthy secrets pasted on every billboard in the city._

 

The woman dropped her phone when the next three knocks rapped against the door. Irritation gripped her as she sprinted down the hallway and turned the lock in the front door. There was nothing else she could do, she knew better than to take Izaya’s threats lightly. Panting slightly, she opened the door, screaming internally for never having installed a safety chain. Izaya Orihara stood just outside, his trademark smirk illuminated by the light from the hall. He was dressed in the same clothes be always wore - black trousers and a long-sleeved v-neck which was rolled up to the elbows. He carried his fur-lined jacket in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. She noted the backpack on his shoulders and felt her heart sink. Namie stared at him blankly, hand remaining on the doorknob.

 

"Are you going to say 'hello', or what?" he said, chuckling darkly.

 

Namie growled under her breath and clenched the doorknob tighter, trying not to lash out at him instantly. "What do you want, scumbag?"

 

"How unpleasant," he responded, his smirk dropping slightly. Though he still hadn't moved any further toward her, she remained tense. “Say please and I’ll tell you.”

 

The woman grit her teeth together tightly. "Please."

 

He cocked his head to the side, giving her a coy smile. "Please what?"

 

It took all her power not to hit him straight in his smug face. "Please, dickhead."

 

The man sighed and moved, shoving her backward so that he could step over the threshold. Namie yelped as she was sent toppling to the floor and quickly scrambled to her feet when she heard the door slam shut. The hallway was now cast into a state of darkness, the only source of light coming from the dim lamp in the living room down the corridor. It was enough to see the dangerous glint in his eyes.

 

“Such nasty language.”

 

"Get out!" Namie shouted, holding her hands out in front of her and balling them into fists. "I’m busy. Other people are here-"

 

"No-one else is here," he replied, scoffing. "Don't take me for an idiot."

 

She shot him a glare. "Get out, regardless."

 

The man tutted and moved closer, placing the bottle down on the sideboard in the hall. He carelessly dropped his coat and bag on the floor next to her.

 

"You’re so harsh, Namie. Don’t you ever play nice?" he asked.

 

"No!" she snapped, stepping back as he advanced. "Get the hell out."

 

"Now, now," Izaya chided. "You’re only racking up more things to apologise for."

 

The woman drew in a sharp breath, the same anger as before tightening her chest. There was something else beneath that anger too, something she hadn't felt in a long time - anxiety. Namie wasn’t the type to be afraid of anything, but something about Izaya always put her on edge. She knew all the vile things he did to people, after all, she was the one who filed them neatly away in the cabinets in his office. Her stomach turned when she saw his dark expression and the two of them stood in silence for a moment before she finally spoke.

 

"You are an arse, Orihara," she exclaimed. Hastily, she shoved her hands against his chest and pushed him back toward the door. "Leave."

 

“No,” he chirped, cheerily. He waved the bottle in her face. “Look, I bought wine! Let’s order some food I’m starving.”

 

“You came here for dinner?” she laughed, derisively. “Unbelievable.”

 

Izaya grinned widely, lips parting slightly to show his white teeth. “Not just dinner.”

 

The man walked closer to her and leaned forward so that he could speak lowly into her ear. She shuddered at the soft touch of his breath against her skin and almost flinched when his hand wrapped around her forearm. Her heartbeat started to race when he turned his head so that his lips brushed the sensitive area behind her ear. Despite the pleasant sensations running down her spine, she remained still and silent so that Izaya wouldn’t know he was affecting her. She bit the inside of her cheek - he _wasn’t_ affecting her. This was Izaya Orihara, she truly hated him. It was just the lack of touch for years that made her skin tingle. He laughed suddenly and drew back, raising a brow.

 

“But I'm not here for _that_ either, sorry to disappoint you Namie. I actually need to stay here for a while, okay?”

 

Namie balked at the request and his bluntness and snatched her arm back."Get out before I kick your ass."

 

"We both know that isn't going to happen," he replied, callously. He leaned away from her, much to her relief. "I'd like pizza for dinner, what about y-"

 

"I am not going to let you stay in my house!" she said, exasperated.

 

"Yes, you are," Izaya laughed. He fixed her gaze and raised a sculpted brow. "Have you forgotten who pays your bills?”

 

Namie felt her cheeks flush and she started to ramble. Since when was she so quick to snap around him, she thought. It must be because the man was invading _her_ space, _her_ home. This was her safe zone, away from the macabre world he lived in - she wouldn’t let him ruin that. "No, you pathetic little sh-"

 

"Don't speak to me like that, Namie," he snapped, a bored look on his face. The man took a few steps toward her again and she cursed the wall that stopped her from fleeing. He looked her dead in the eye. "I’m not really in the mood to argue with you."

 

She refrained from slapping him - but only just. “I despise you, Izaya. Why the fuck would I let you stay in my home?”

 

“Because you love me,” he said, sounding amused. “My darling secretary would do anything for me, wouldn't she?”

 

“No.”

 

“It’ll be fun to live together! Only for a little while until Shizu-chan is taken care of,” he chuckled. “C’mon, Namie. I'll even fuck you if you want? You must be lonely all on your own.”

 

“Asshole.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

He moved forward quickly and forced her back into the wall as he captured her lips with his own. Namie squealed against his mouth and raked a hand through the back of his hair so that she could twist it painfully between her fingers. Izaya groaned, the noise a low, lusty tone in his throat. It was an obscene noise and utterly fake. He’d done this before - it was nothing to do with romance, she knew he probably didn't even find her attractive. This was purely a power move, a way to get to her. It never worked - she didn't find him appealing like he thought she did. She played along for the sake of distraction. Their lips clashed and their tongues darted hot and wet into each other's mouth, fighting for dominance. The woman slid her hand under his shirt and scratched her nails down the side of his torso. Then she pushed him forward, never breaking the kiss, until he smacked into the wall opposite. He leaned away briefly, taking in a breath.

 

“I knew you'd let me stay,” he chuckled, licking his bottom lip.

 

Namie scowled and tugged his hair, causing him to wince. “Who said I was letting you stay?”

 

Izaya’s eyes widened as her arm swiftly darted out and opened the front door. She quickly shoved him back out into the corridor and slammed the door in his surprised face. His fist pounded against the wood, so she hurriedly latched the lock and pressed her back against the door. After a moment, there was nothing but silence.

 

Namie let out a breath and slid down the door until her backside hit the floor. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a ragged breath. Damn Izaya, she thought, looking at the discarded coat that still lay in the hallway. How dare he try that shit with her? With a growl, she pushed herself up onto her feet and stormed down the corridor, picking up the bottle of red he had left on the sideboard on the way. She looked down at the label and smirked - it was expensive. Well, she might as well get some enjoyment out of his fleeting visit. As if she’d let him stay, he could rot on the streets for all she cared.

 

The woman moved into her kitchen and retrieved a glass and a corkscrew so that she could pour herself a large glass of wine. As the deep purple liquid filled the glass, she thought of Izaya and his proposition. It was preposterous, of course, but her mind did start to wander. Would he be good in bed? Namie snorted - probably not. Izaya was all bark and no bite, and goodness knows she _loved_ biting. She turned to the sink to place the corkscrew into the recycling. He’d probably be kinky, she thought, most likely a masochist if his obsession with Heiwajima was anything to go by. The part of Izaya she found most attractive was his hands - he had long, slender fingers that worked wonders on a piano, so she imagined they were good at other things too. Namie doubted he would be able to please her when it came to actual fucking. She smirked unpleasantly to herself - she bet he had a small di-

 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Before she could turn she was pushed over the counter and the hand moved to the back of her neck so that it pinned her down. Another jerked one of her arms up behind her, hard enough to make her hiss in pain. She heard him snicker and cursed herself for forgetting how easily the man could pick locks.

 

“Get the fuck off me,” she snarled, thrashing against his grip.

 

Izaya laughed and squeezed her neck in warning. “Come on, Namie. Fight back harder, I know you're capable.”

 

Namie jammed her free elbow into his stomach, then twisted as he was taking in a breath and shoved her foot against his chest. He fell back against the fridge with a grunt but quickly recovered and pushed himself back up, only to see the woman holding a bread knife level with his throat. Her lips quirked into a smirk.

 

“How hard would you like me to fight?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

 

The informant grinned widely and clapped his hands together in excitement. “You’re a lot more fun when provoked, you know that?”

 

“Die, won’t you?”

 

Izaya laughed loudly and reached into his pocket to retrieve his flick-knife. “What a horrid thing to say!”

 

“Give up, dirtbag,” Namie replied, annoyed. “I’m not going to let you stay, so get out.”

 

The informant stared at her, smiling, unmoving, until she stepped forward with the bread knife still outstretched. He took a step to the side and began to circle to the left, though she matched his movements in the opposite direction.

 

“Why not?” he asked, innocently. “I need your help.”

 

Namie frowned. What a stupid question. There were plenty of reasons - first and foremost, she hated the arrogant man-child. Then there was the fact that Shizuo Heiwajima was after him and could easily tear her house apart. Knowing him, he also had some hidden agenda behind this. _I need your help._ That was a surprising thing for the informant to say. He was such a loner, he always preferred to do things by himself - much like her. Perhaps he was really in trouble this time. She opened her mouth but irritatingly found she had nothing to say.

 

“Na-mi-e,” he cooed, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I’m waiting.”

 

“Get out of my house,” she said, placing the bread knife down on the counter with a sigh. She folded her arms across her chest and fixed her employer with a cold glare. He didn’t move. “Get out, Izaya.”

 

Izaya gave a low chuckle and shrugged. “Can’t think of a good reason?”

 

“I can think of plenty,” she retorted, brows knitting together in anger. “Are you not hearing me? I said get out.”

 

“No, I hear you loud and clear. I’m just choosing to ignore you,” he snickered. He turned to his left and picked up the bottle of wine. “A drink at least?”

 

Namie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezing shut in irritation. Eventually she let out an aggravated sigh and pointed to the cupboard behind him before turning on her heel and striding back to her desk. “Glasses are in there.”

 

"That’s more like it," Izaya responded, retrieving a large glass and from the cupboard. He crossed the room, humming loud enough to annoy her and set both glasses down in front of her. The man took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. "Try not to throw it in my face.”

 

“I wouldn’t waste good wine on your stupid face,” she answered, with a scowl.

 

He chuckled and stood so that he could pour himself a glass. Namie looked up at him quickly and was taken aback by the honesty of his expression. The smirk had vanished and had been replaced by an equal, genuine smile. His eyes were crinkled around the edges and their usual intensity had dulled to something softer. The man seemed to relax - Namie hadn't realised how much stress had been sitting on his shoulders until it was gone. It was then that saw noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the exhaustion obvious in his slack limbs. His usually pristine clothes were dirty and there were a number of bruises and scratches peeking out from beneath his shirt. She raised a brow when she noticed the deep bite mark on the juncture of his neck just that was partially hidden by his collar, but didn't comment.

 

Izaya rounded the desk so that he could place the glass in front of her. He bent at the waist as he set it down and placed a hand on the back of her chair, causing her to stiffen. She turned slightly to look up at him and nodded. The man returned the gesture before moving the the armchair a few feet away from her desk to sit down. He let out a sigh and reached for the television remote, making himself at home. That irked her and so folded her arms across her chest.

 

“So what happened?” she asked, irritably. “What’s been going on?”

 

“Shizu-chan has been hired to kill me,” Izaya explained, carelessly. “I've been running, he’s been chasing - the usual.”

 

“Hired?” she repeated, raising a brow. “That's different.”

 

“Mmm, I know! It's been a thrilling experience but I need to rest before continuing,” he continued, taking a sip of his drink. “Which is why I'm here.”

 

Namie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Can't you bother someone else?”

 

The man turned his head to look at her. His dark eyes were blank but his brow was slightly furrowed. If she didn't know him so well she would have said he was worried. “I don't have anywhere else to go.”

 

Namie looked at him silently for a moment then pinched the bridge of her nose and screwed her eyes shut. Eventually, she growled and dropping her hand, staring angrily at Izaya.

 

“Fine, you can stay,” she sighed, taking a large gulp of wine. She knew she'd regret this later, Izaya was way more trouble than he was worth.

 

The informant smiled widely and raised his glass. “Thanks Namie, you're too good to me.”

 

“I know, you prat,” she spat, turning back to her laptop. “Ground rules: you're buying food from now until you leave. You sleep in the spare bedroom and you _stay there._ No pulling pranks or any of your weird shit. Finally - this is the most important - if Heiwajima ends up finding you, you walk out of this house so it doesn't get ruined.”

 

“Yes, yes,” he said, waving a hand at her. He placed his glass down on his knee and held the stem carefully. “I know you don't believe me but I am grateful.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I mean it,” he insisted. “I'll be out as soon as I can - for both our sake’s.”

 

Namie raised a brow. “And how do you intend to sort this situation?”

 

For the first time since she'd known him, Izaya said, “I don't know.”

 

The woman let out a breath and leaned back in her seat. “Try not to get yourself killed.”

 

“Aww, Namie, are you going soft on me?”

 

“As if,” she snorted, turning back to her work. “I just don't want to lose my monthly paycheck, _dear._ ”

 

Izaya laughed and went back to flicking through the television channels. “That's more like it. You're a heartless ice queen.”

 

“Would you have me any other way?” she asked, sarcastically.

 

“To me, Namie, you're absolutely perfect,” he answered, with not a hint of dishonesty in his words.

 

She gave a short laugh then glanced at him and narrowed her eyes. “Oh by the way.”

 

“Yes?” he replied, shifting his body so he could face her.

 

“If you ever try and kiss me again,” she warned, tone growing colder with each word. “I'll fill your mouth with dogshit and sew it shut. Okay?”

 

Izaya snickered at her viciousness. “What a wonderful woman you are!”

 


	6. Another time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy. Lots of flashbacks here. Main plot will move forward from next chapter.

_Shizuo cracked open his second beer and took a long gulp. He had stopped in the supermarket briefly on his way back to his apartment after working with Tom to pick up some food and a large quantity of alcohol. Quite frankly, he needed it after the multitude of filthy texts and images sent to him by Izaya. A number of cases had been beaten up today purely to get rid of his frustration before it could make his cock turn stiff in his pants. Despite their relationship, if you could call it that, Shizuo still got pissed off when the other man sent over a barrage of smut during work hours - which was often enough that he knew he was purposefully trying to be annoying. He’d sent Izaya a single message in reply._

 

_‘FUCK OFF IZAYA. HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!’_

 

_Predictably, Izaya ignored him and started sending through more filth._

 

 _“Stupid flea,” he grumbled to himself, laying back on the floor._ _  
_  
_The TV buzzed loudly beside him, showing some game show that he wasn’t interested in. It was only ten, it would be a couple of hours until he felt vaguely tired, going on his recurring sleep patterns. His stomach rumbled hungrily so he blindly reached beside him for the bag of crisps he had discarded earlier. Unable to find them, he sat up and retrieved them from the floor. Shizuo knew he was a pathetic sight - dressed in his pajamas, stuffing his flushed face with tortilla chips and booze. But he had to keep his mind off Izaya, off his soft lips and teasing glances, or he would end up calling him over and he didn't want to appear to be giving in to his lover’s every whim, especially after his behaviour today._

 

_“Ugh!” he groaned, laying back down. His stomach growled again - he should have bought more than just crisps, this pack wouldn’t be enough._

 

_What an asshole. How dare he send shit like that? Shizuo knew it was just a game to Izaya, just another way to taunt him. Izaya was an evil little shit sometimes but he wouldn't have him any other way. The blond picked up his phone and began scrolling through the text messages and scowled._

 

‘I want you to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk.’

‘We should have sex in the shower next time. You’d look so sexy with wet hair.’

‘I love the way you feel inside me Shizu-chan.’

‘Your strength turns me on so much. I love the bruises and bite marks you leave on me. Fuck, I'm so hard.’

‘I just came thinking about you fucking my mouth so hard I choke on your cock.’

 

_Izaya had such a dirty mouth. Shizuo closed his eyes and pictured him between his thighs, sharp tongue flicking against his cock, hands clutching his wild, dark hair. The mischievous, smutty glint in his burnt red eyes would be there, as it always was, as it always had been since their first kiss at Raira. Absent-mindedly, Shizuo’s free hand wandered down his clothed stomach and his thoughts ran wild._

 

_Izaya would have that same, seductive smirk on his face the entire time. He would speak hushed filth into his ear as he dug his nails into his thighs and dragged them down his skin hard enough to break through. His wicked mouth would barely leave his to allow him time to breath, sending him into a state of dizziness._

 

_Shizuo’s hand dipped below the waistband of his pajama bottoms and skimmed over his throbbing cock._

 

_"Izaya," he hissed, closing his eyes._

 

_Shizuo’s movements would be smooth, with a hint of desperation and roughness that would leave the smaller man’s mouth hanging open and his toes curling into the sheets. Izaya would sink his fingernails into Shizuo’s back, groaning as his sweat would drip onto his body. He loved him like that, so flushed and consumed. Izaya’s voice would come out in pants, groans, hisses-_

 

_"Izaya," he repeated softly, hips bucking as he dragged his hand up and down with added pressure._

 

_His phone buzzed on the table, startling him out of his daydream. Almost embarrassed, he removed his hand from his trousers. Shizuo sat up quickly and opened his phone, grimacing as soon as he saw his lover’s name flash up on the screen. Could he sense what he was doing?!_

 

 

Orihara, I

21:28PM

Are you home Shizu-chan?

 

Heiwajima, S

21:29PM

**Go away**

 

Orihara, I

21:30PM

So mean Shizu-chan!

 

 

_After reading this message, a light knock came from the door. Shizuo felt his heart sink. He approached the door cautiously and slowly opened it. It was no surprise to see the dark-haired man smiling back at him. The blond scowled and started to shut the door, but Izaya’s hand shot out and halted his actions._

 

_“Tsk tsk,” Izaya chided, giving him an amused look. “You shouldn’t be so rude to those bringing you supper.”_

 

_Shizuo’s face paled. “How long have you been standing there?”_

 

_Izaya gave him a cheerful grin and pushed past him into the apartment. “Long enough.”_

 

_Shizuo screamed internally - Izaya had definitely heard him moaning his name. He shut the door behind him and tried not to lose his cool._

 

_“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Izaya had already moved into the kitchen and had set the bag he had been carrying on the counter._

 

_“Well, you said my name so I thought you must need me,” he answered, nonchalantly. Shizuo’s face turned near-purple with embarrassment and rage. Izaya chuckled and grinned widely at his reaction._

 

_“You're such a-”_

 

_Shizuo was cut off when Izaya strode smoothly toward him. His cheeks burned with heat when he halted just in front of him, head tilted upward so that he could look him directly in the eye._

 

_"It looks like I was right," he said, smile pulling up to one side._

 

_"About what?" Shizuo asked, voice cracking slightly. He swallowed thickly, trying not to lock eyes with him, which was much more difficult considering his close proximity._

 

_Izaya chuckled under his breath and tilted his head to one side. "You needing me."_

 

_Shizuo spluttered, heart pounding quickly once again. "I don't need you, idiot!"_

 

_"Oh, well maybe not need then," he answered. He reached out and gripped Shizuo’s hip with his hand, digging his nails in ever so slightly. "Perhaps want is a more appropriate word."_

 

_The blond froze, trying to restrain himself from grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. The way Izaya was looking at him was making his legs weak, but he was determined to save face._

 

_"I don't know what you're talking about," Shizuo insisted, clenching his fist at his side._

 

_"Oh really?" he replied, sarcastically. He dug his fingers into Shizuo’s hip a little tighter and smirked when he noticed the other man’s eyes glaze momentarily. Izaya moved closer so that he was flush against the blond’s front. "So you weren't jerking yourself off and moaning my name, then?"_

 

_Shizuo placed a hand against Izaya’s chest and tried half-heartedly to push him back. "I didn't - I don't, I mean, I'm not-"_

 

_“Don’t lie Shizu-chan,” Izaya leaned forward and placed his mouth next to Shizuo’s ear. He shivered when his warm breath hit his skin. "How about I touch you instead?"_

 

_"I-I mean, I-"_

 

_He leaned back and peered up at Shizuo, a smug expression on his face. "Did my little messages get you all hot and bothered?"_

 

_“No,” the blond lied, scowling. “They were annoying! I told you not to send that shit to me at work.”_

 

_Izaya sighed deeply, though the action was clearly over-dramatic and false. “Don't you find me sexy anymore Shizu-chan?”_

 

_“Shut up.”_

 

_The smaller man’s hands stroked over his hips and Shizuo did his best not to buck into them. Sometimes he hated the effect Izaya had on him._

 

_“Don't you want to do all those things I messaged you about?” Izaya murmured, voice dripping with want. “Because all I could think about today was you fucking me into the floor until I screamed your name.”_

 

_With that, the brunet stepped away and returned to the kitchen. As he began to prepare some food, Shizuo remained stock still, reeling from the filthy images that were suddenly running through his mind. His body was aching for Izaya to touch him again but he didn't want to admit that the other man was right. Those suggestions and pictures around him so much he had to jerk off in a cafe toilet during his work hours - there was no way in hell Izaya could know about that or he’d just continue to do send that stuff in the future. Shizuo felt his pulse quicken at the thought._

 

_Or perhaps he was just trying to make excuses. Izaya was here now, being his usual teasing, taunting self - perhaps Shizuo could use this opportunity to drive home that he was not to send that shit while he was working._

_“Don’t send it when I’m at work,” he muttered, darkly. “Cos-”_

 

_Izaya stared up at him and raised a brow. “Hmm?”_

 

_“It turns me on,” he growled, feeling his cheeks burn. “So don’t send it when I’m working.”_

 

_The brunet’s eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk spread over his face. “Can’t deal with a little teasing, Shizu-chan?”_

 

_“Fuck you,” Shizuo continued, gritting his teeth. Even if he loved the man, he didn’t half piss him off. When he caught sight of Izaya’s hungry expression he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I should-”_

 

_“Punish me?” he teased, moving around the counter._

 

_Shizuo clenched a fist and glared at him. After a moment of silence, the blond laughed unpleasantly and his mouth stretched into a grin. “You know what - that isn’t a bad idea.”_

 

-0-

 

It was a pleasant morning. The air was crisp and sharp but the bright sunshine took the edge off the biting cold of winter. Namie opened her sleep-heavy eyes and saw a sliver of light stretching across her bedroom from the crack in the curtains. She yawned tiredly and turned her head to look at her alarm clock, which read 10:45AM. Normally the woman would get up early but after the five bottles of wine her and Izaya managed to sink the night before, she didn’t think twice about staying in bed that morning. Thank God for blackout curtains. She grimaced and laid her hand over her forehead. Izaya was a pain in the ass but at least he had good taste in wine. They stayed up until about two in the morning, at which point she forced him to go to sleep in her spare bedroom. The man looked dead on his feet and seem to be fuelled only by alcohol at that point. When she finally managed to get him into the bedroom, he fell face first onto the duvet and instantly drifted off to sleep. Namie had just rolled her eyes at that stage. Izaya was filthy but there was no way he was showering in that state.

 

Her temples were throbbing angrily so she reached over to her bedside table and took a deep swig from the water bottle there. Satiated, she collapsed back into the pillows and rolled over onto her other side. Namie let out a soft sigh and snuggled her face into the soft material, mind drifting to Seiji. Unfortunately, her peaceful thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang from the opposite side of her bedroom. Namie’s eyes snapped open and before she could properly sit up, a heavy weight bounced down beside her on the bed.

 

“Morning Na-mi-e!”

 

The woman groaned and sat upright to see Izaya laying on his front beside her. He was peering at her with his chin resting on his knuckles and an enormous grin on his face. Much to her disgust, he was clothed only in a damp towel - one of _her_ towels - wrapped around his waist. His hair and body were wet and soaking through her sheets but at least he was clean. He kicked his feet in the air behind him, legs bent at the knee, and chuckled under his breath at her groggy appearance.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my room?” she hissed, wiping the sleep dust from her eyes. When they were clean she turned to glare at the man lounging on her bed. He simply tilted his head to the side and gazed back at her, amused.

 

“The bathroom near me only had a shower - I wanted a bath so I used your en-suite,” he explained, lips curling at the edges as he watched her face flush with anger. “I do hope you don’t mind Namie.”

 

“Don’t sneak into my bedroom, you pervert.”

 

Izaya laughed but was silenced when a pillow smacked into his face. He threw it off the side of the bed and watched as Namie turned away from him huffily. “Oh come on, surely this is the best sight you’ve woken up to in a long time.”

 

“I hate you, I hate y-”

 

“You love me!”

 

The woman growled under her breath and pulled the duvet over her head to shut him out. Instead of deterring the man, he simply lifted the covers and crawled beneath them toward Namie. With a satisfied hum, he wound his arm around her waist and pulled her into the role of little spoon. She cursed loudly and tried to wriggle out of his grip but Izaya was surprisingly strong for a man of his stature. The water on his skin was soaking through her nightshirt creating an unpleasant sensation but that was nothing compared to the vile feeling of his warm, bony body poking into her back.

 

“Get off of me, asshole,” she snapped.

 

He hugged her tighter and snickered. “I wanted to give you a hug to say thank you for taking me in, lovely Namie.”

 

“Get-”

 

“Sorry, did you want to be big spoon?” he asked, innocently.

 

Namie snarled and twisted around, ignoring how unpleasantly close his smirking face now was to hers. Actually, the proximity was a good thing - she jerked her head forward and smacked it against his, hard enough that he flinched and the arm hugging her flew to his nose.

 

“Ouch! You’re such a fucking-”

 

The woman moved away from him and climbed out of bed, shooting him a final glare before emptying the bottle of water on her bedside table over his face. She didn’t care about the sheets so long as he was humiliated. Izaya spluttered and rubbed his face into a pillow to soak up the errant drops.

 

“Get out of my bedroom,” Namie ordered, coldly. “Or I will drag you out of my house altogether.”

 

Izaya returned her frosty gaze and stood up, holding the towel at his waist securely. “Fine. You’re so mean.”

 

“I swear to God you are the most frustrating creature that ever lived,” she said, exasperated. She ran a hand through her dark hair then folded her arms across her chest. “Go make coffee.”

 

Izaya smiled and nodded as Namie walked across the room to open the curtains. “Sure! Could you make some of those delightful pancakes you served me a while ago? The ones with chocolate chips in them? I’m absolutely famished.”

 

Namie opened her mouth to tell him to go fuck himself but paused when her eyes adjusted to the bright light from outside and she got a better look at him. Izaya had always been slender but now he was downright scrawny, she could see the outline of his bones through his pasty skin and noted that there was a dent just below his left pectoral, probably a broken rib. There were a lot of bruises. Most were dark purple, clearly fresh, and wrapped around his neck in a thick band. If she didn’t know Izaya so well she would have been concerned as to what could have caused such extensive damage. Other contusions and shallow cuts littered his legs, chest and arms, though most seemed to be healing over. There was one wound, a much deeper laceration, situated just below his collarbone. It was open and a water-diluted blood was seeping slowly out of it - it clearly needed stitching. It must have been covered by his black shirt the night before.

 

“You look like shit,” she stated, brows knitting together.  She gestured to her own collarbone. “Did you run into a knife?”

 

Izaya peered down at his chest and gently pressed his hand against the wound. He grimaced at the sight of blood staining his fingertips. He vaguely recalled how the injury came to be- _Shizuo sighed and pressed the knife back into his chest. Before he could break the skin, Izaya lurched forward, gritting his teeth to deal with the agony of the blade entering his body slightly, and pushed Shizuo backward onto the floor._

 

“Actually, Namie, I did,” he chuckled, lowering his hand. “Sort of.”

 

The woman sighed and waved her hand toward the door. “Go make coffee. And put on some clothes while you’re at it, I’m sick of looking at your disgusting chest. I’ll stitch you up and then make your fucking pancakes.”

 

“Ah, you’re so kind!”

 

“You’re a grown man, Izaya,” she called after him, as he waltzed happily out of her room. “Learn to look after yourself!”

 

The information broker smiled to himself as he moved down the darkened hallway toward the spare bedroom. Gently, he placed his hand back over the stab wound and scowled as he felt blood soaking his palm. Despite his chirpy antics, his entire body was aching terribly. He hadn’t slept properly since the chase began, he barely paused for long enough for his to focus on his increasing injuries. With a sigh, he began to search in his backpack for a new set of clothes.

 

“Namie!” he shouted, pulling on his boxers. “I need to use your washing machine!”

 

“Go to a laundrette you fucking cheapskate!” came her scathing reply.

 

Izaya smirked and laughed under his breath. “Love you too, Namie.”

 

-0-

 

_Shizuo’s apartment was a small, but comfortable place. The main living-dining area contained a large, squishy arm-chair and matching loveseat, a coffee table and a cupboard filled with bartending uniforms. One door at the end of this room led to a small bathroom, whilst another opened onto a bedroom. Shizuo kept the place unexpectedly clean, Izaya had pegged him as a messy person at first. The still unprepared food was still on the countertop, the television still on, but the two occupants of the house were now curled up messily on Shizuo’s double bed. It hadn't taken long for the tension between them to snap. In fact, it had been Shizuo who yanked Izaya into a kiss as the brunet was taunting him further. Shizuo was now straddling his waist, hands placed on either side of his head, and kissing him fiercely. The blond barely stopped his actions to breathe and he sat back so that he could yank Izaya up into a sitting position. One hand wrapped around the smaller man’s waist while the other snaked into his dark hair and tugged it down softly, allowing his lips access to the base of the other man’s throat. His kisses were uncharacteristically gentle, so Izaya closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling. Shizuo made a trail up to his ear, barely skimming the sensitive skin, then all of a sudden the hand in his hair clenched and twisted the dark strands painfully. Izaya’s eyes flew open and he shivered when a dark smirk stretched across the other man’s face._

 

_"Keep your eyes open," Shizuo ordered. The grip on Izaya’s hair loosened slightly, much to his relief, and the hand on his waist slid lower, until it rested on his hip. "I want you to keep your eyes open"_

 

_"Shizu-chan is so - ah!" Izaya gasped. Shizuo's mouth had descended again, this time to the juncture of his shoulder and neck. However, instead of a soft kiss as before, he bit down and his strong, sharp canines broke through his skin. A rush of adrenaline hit and Izaya arched into him. It was a strange sensation, slightly painful but not wholly unpleasant. After a moment Shizuo drew back and lapped at the puncture wounds with his tongue, sending shivers down Izaya’s spine._

 

_“You wanted me to punish you, right?” Shizuo murmured, his tone deep, almost hoarse. “That's why you keep on goading me, isn’t it?”_

 

_Izaya chuckled and ran his hands through Shizuo’s hair. “Ah, you know me so well.”_

 

_“You know if you wanted me to be rougher all you had to do was ask,” the blond chided, continuing to press harsh kisses along the other man’s collarbone. “You didn't have to provoke me.”_

 

_“Ah, but Shizu-chan,” Izaya laughed, panting slightly. He bucked his hips up into his lover’s crotch. Shizuo growled and clamped a hand over his hipbone so that he could press Izaya back down onto the bed. “That wouldn't be half as fun.”_

 

_Shizuo pressed his lips back over the brunet’s, swallowing his gentle laughter. As he stripped the man of his clothes and began scratching, biting, pulling, Izaya groaned and twisted, clearly enjoying himself._

 

_Somewhere in their tryst, the blond felt Izaya’s swollen lips pressed against his ear and he heard him whispering ‘I love you Shizu-chan, I love you’ over and over again. Shizuo wasn’t sure if Izaya meant his mutterings to be heard or if they were heady thoughts that were bursting out of him uncontrollably. He began to repeat the sentiment himself and the two men wrapped themselves around one another and dug their fingers into each other’s bodies until the violence became something like love._

 


	7. A captured moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

When Shizuo opened his groggy eyes five hours had passed since Izaya left the apartment. His head was pounding, temples throbbing angrily against his skull far worse than any hangover. The blond groaned and sat upright, blinking rapidly to try and bring his bleary eyes back into focus. He ran a hand through his hair and gave a sigh - Izaya had slipped through his fingers _again._

 

“Fucking flea,” he groaned, laying back against the duvet.

 

It was strange to be in Izaya’s apartment again. They’d shared this bed together so many times in the past, back when relations between them were tender and masked with lies. The night before had been so starkly different that one might not have believed that it was the same pair of men beneath the sheets. Shizuo laid a forearm across his eyes and his lips pulled down into an unpleasant frown. Killing Izaya was starting to because more effort than it was worth.

 

As if on cue his phone beeped loudly from the pocket of his trousers, which were discarded on the floor. Shizuo lugged his heavy body off the bed and crawled across the floor to where his clothes lay. He searched through a pocket until he fished out his phone and sprawled out on his back so he could read the instant message that had been sent to him.

  


Weird guy - **7:15PM**

You really are useless aren’t you?

  


Shizuo scowled at the device he held just above his eyes and quickly typed out a message.

  


_Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:16PM**

Shut up. I won’t fail next time.

 

 _Weird guy -_ **7:18PM**

I’m getting bored of waiting so I think we’ll try a different route. I have an inkling about something - are you still at Orihara’s apartment?

 

 _Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:20PM**

Yeah, why?

 

 _Weird guy -_ **7:24PM**

Hmm, no doubt his computer will be encrypted. And you’re not the brightest spark are you, Shizuo?

 

 _Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:27PM**

Fuck you.

 

 _Weird guy_ \- **7:30PM**

Hehe. Well, I’ll have a device delivered to you by a contact of mine. I need you to take and plug it into Izaya’s desktop computer. Leave it running until the light on it turns red. After that, call the headless courier to deliver it to the Awakusu-kai. I trust that won’t be too hard.

 

 _Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:34PM**

I’m not an idiot you know. What does the device do?

 

 _Weird guy_ \- **7:37PM**

As I said, I have an inkling about something. Do you remember Akane Awakusu?

  


Shizuo almost dropped his phone at the sight of that name again. He knew _exactly_ who that was - he imagined that Shinichi Tsukumoya had the same inkling he had all those years ago.

  


_Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:40PM**

Yeah, I think I remember. The Yakuza guy’s daughter?

 

 _Weird guy_ \- **7:41PM**

Indeed. I think Orihara was involved somehow - either encouraging her to run away or actively guiding her to the Kyumoto-kai’s hideout. I’ve been unable to access his main desktop machine remotely but if you copy the hard-drive for me I should be able to find what I need.

 

 _Heiwajima, S_ \- **7:43PM**

Why would you need that information?

 

 _Weird guy_ \- **7:45PM**

Because _then_ I can send it to the Awakusu-kai and I won’t have to rely on your pathetic attempts alone. We’ll attack Orihara from all angles - ahah!

 

 _Weird guy -_ **7:47PM**

Anyway. I’ll send the device tomorrow morning. Get some sleep tonight, Heiwajima - you must be tired from all that _chasing._

  


Shizuo heard the underlying accusation in Tsukumoya’s tone and threw the phone to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and let out an irritable sigh. Sleeping with the flea had been a huge mistake, he felt like he was going to throw up. Slowly he pushed himself off the floor and stretched his aching muscles. Might as well make himself at home if he was going to be here for a couple of days, the flea wasn’t likely to come back. After pulling on his clothes, he headed out of the bedroom into the kitchen/living area and started moving about the kitchen, searching the cupboards for food.

 

“Skinny little shit doesn’t eat anything,” he grumbled to himself, having found another empty cupboard. At last he managed to source some cup noodles and a tin of tuna, which he formed into a strange, lukewarm concoction.

 

He sat down behind Izaya’s desk and set the cup noodles down on the counter to let them cool down. The desktop computer was in front of him, switched off and blank. He didn’t bother turning it on, undoubtedly Izaya would have some sort of protection on it that he wouldn’t be able to get through. Instead, he flicked on the television using the remote on the desk and absent-mindedly watched the evening news. It had been a long week, a long damn month. At least he had a couple of days in a relatively nice place to relax - though as this was Izaya’s apartment he doubted he be able to shake the tenseness in his shoulders. There were too many memories here for Shizuo to feel completely comfortable. The apartment barely looked any different from the day he left, it was disconcerting. As he waited for the noodles to reach a better temperature, he started to search through the drawers below the desk.

 

The first contained stacks of neatly-stapled papers, upon which were detailed cases Izaya had been working on, addresses, identities, known locations. Shizuo dropped them back into the drawer and slid open the one above. The information was interesting but essentially useless to him at that moment so there was little point in reading it in detail. The second drawer was much like the first - papers, pens, a few spare mobile phones. There were three vicious looking knives which made Shizuo smirk. Izaya was always armed to the teeth, even back when they had been together. How had he been so blind to the wolf in sheep’s clothing when the disguise had always been so see-through.

 

The final drawer was nearly empty. It contained an expensive looking fountain pen, a few stray bills and a packet of cigarettes. Shizuo smirked a reached to the back of the drawer to retrieve them - might as well smoke on Izaya’s yen. As he raised a cigarette to his lips he noticed something else sitting in the darker recesses of the drawer. He raised a brow and grabbed hold of the item so that he could pull it into the light. It was a folded up piece of photo paper. It was fairly crumpled, obviously quite old. When he unfolded it, gently so as not to tear it accidentally, he almost dropped it in surprise.

 

It was a photograph, one that had been taken at Shinra’s twentieth birthday party. Shinra and Celty were on the left side of the picture. The doctor was flushed and he was leaning heavily against his girlfriend, clearly drunk. Celty was holding the camera up in the air, her smoking neck exposed to the lens. Shizuo smiled gently and touched a finger to his friend’s image. He never had been able to hold his drink well. His gaze shifted to the right hand side. There, as he knew they would be, were he and Izaya. They were younger and their faces were clear of the hatred that sat there now. Shizuo had a beer in one hand and Izaya beneath his arm. His other hand was in the back of the man’s dark hair, in a place Shizuo knew he found comforting. Izaya was looking up at Shizuo with a big grin on his face and a smudge of neon paint on his cheek. They looked happy, honestly happy.

 

Why did Izaya keep this? By the look of it this was the only photograph in the house.

 

The blond man dropped the photo onto the desk and rested his chin on his hand. He looked at it for a second longer and then turned it over. With a sigh, he dragged the cup noodles toward him and tried to get the memory out of his mind.

 

-0-

 

_“How could you lie to me?”_

 

_All the innocence melted from his face and all that remained was a vicious, Cheshire smirk. When he spoke, his words dripped with vitriol._

 

_“How could you believe me?”_

 

_“What the FUCK?”_

 

_Izaya had never seen Shizuo so angry before. Sure, he’d been pissed off but now his veins were bulging and his face was verging on purple. Perhaps he had gone too far, perhaps he should have kept up and spun a few more lies for Shizuo’s sake. Izaya smirked and backed up against the wall, one hand dipping into his coat pocket so he could wrap a hand around the flick-knife he always carried. Perhaps he should have told him the truth from the start - but no, Shizuo clearly had issues with his chosen profession. At least the lies had provided a few years of peace. Well, as peaceful as it could have been with Shizuo involved. His thoughts were interrupted when Shizuo’s fist landed on the wall next to his head. His eyes widened at the furious look on his lover’s face. Self-preservation was all that was on his mind at that time, he knew Shizuo could be dangerous, even to him. It was time to plaster on a different face, one he’d kept from the blond for such a long time. How he’d hoped this day would never come._

 

_“Are you fucking listening to me, you prick?” he shouted, voice echoing around the living room of Izaya’s apartment._

 

_Izaya sighed dramatically and turned to look at the fist beside his head. He tapped a finger on the top of Shizuo’s knuckles._

 

_“Drop,” he ordered, sternly._

 

_“Don't talk to me like I'm a dog,” he hissed, dropping his hand nonetheless. “You sent all those guys after me! After my brother!”_

 

_“And you got rid of them, didn’t you?” he scoffed. He slid the knife from his pocket and held it concealed in his hand. “I didn't tell you to beat them half to death did I?”_

 

_“Not directly, but you-”_

 

_“I told them to hunt down your brother because I knew you would intervene dispatch them for me,” Izaya answered, tone dropping as he grew slightly annoyed by the other’s gruff accusations. “I didn't tell you to brutalise them and smash their faces in, did-”_

 

_Before he could finish, Shizuo swung a fist at his head. Izaya dodged the punch swiftly and shoved the larger man back-first into the wall with his foot. He lurched forward and gripped the knife tighter so that he could shove it against Shizuo’s neck, whilst he placed his forearm over his chest to pin him down. Despite the obvious difference in strength, the angle and pressure of the impact was enough to cause the blond let out a grunt as the air was forced from his lungs._

 

_“Don't try me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya hissed, furiously. “I didn’t ask you to be a monster - did I?”_

 

_“F-fuck you,” he growled, choking as the hand that held the knife was pressed harder into his windpipe._

 

_“Calm down.”_

 

_“No.”_

 

_Shizuo swung his hand forward suddenly and grabbed hold of Izaya’s throat. He spun them around so their positions swapped and winced as Izaya’s flick-knife nicked the skin of his throat. With his free hand, he tore the offending weapon away from the brunet and flung it across the room, out of sight. When he turned his gaze back to Izaya, the smaller man was looking up at him with wide eyes but the smirk was still there. Shizuo shoved him back against the wall, hard enough for Izaya to crack his head against the plaster. The expression he was wearing was terrible, he despised this creature that had taken the voice and face of his lover. Anger blossomed in his chest and burst from his mouth in a guttural snarl. Who was this thing, this vile, reprehensible man who played with people’s lives? Who sent people after his brother, after him, all for the sake of driving the remains of a gang out of Ikebukuro. The name of the group, the Kyumoto-kai rang alarm bells in his head - weren’t they in the news recently? Yes, he thought, connected to the murder of that little girl. Shizuo felt as if a barrel of ice-water had been thrown over his head. All of a sudden, he didn’t recognise the man choking beneath his palm and Izaya Orihara became a complete stranger to him._

 

_“Shiz-Shi-” Izaya gurgled, scratching at the strong hand that encompassed his throat. He could feel his windpipe being crushed beneath the blond’s fingers and worried that he would keep increasing the pressure until he strangled him to death. For a split second, he really thought Shizuo would kill him._

 

_The men glared at one another in silence until Shizuo finally released the smaller man, who fell to his knees, coughing violently. Izaya looked up at the other as he gathered his breath and was disturbed to see him looking down at him with an odd glint in his eyes._

 

_“That hurt,” Izaya panted, pushing himself off the floor to an upright position._

 

_“It was meant to,” Shizuo spat._

 

_“So what now?” the informant continued, smirking. “I still lov-”_

 

_Shizuo had him backed into the lockers again in an instant. He placed his hands on either side of the brunet’s head and leaned in close, causing Izaya to tense in apprehension of another hit._

 

_The larger man grunted and stroked a long finger down the other’s neck, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. His hand opened wide to wrap back around the already bruised neck. “I’m gonna k-”_

 

_No, no - he was going to kill him! He didn’t want to die - not here, not like this, not by his lover’s hand. Panic surged inside him and made his guts squirm uncomfortably. Izaya growled under his breath and shoved his hands into Shizuo’s chest but the other man quickly grabbed ahold of his wrists and slammed them back into the wall. The impact caused pain to run down the informant’s arms and he let out a grunt of pain before he could stop himself. He twisted his torso, trying to escape, as Shizuo shoved a knee forward between his thighs. The blond tutted at him and shook his head._

 

_“Get off of me!” Izaya yelled, his eyes wide._

 

_Shizuo grinned and tilted his head to one side. “Losing your cool at last, Izaya?”_

 

_“What do you think you’re doing?” he gasped, still thrashing against the tight grip. “Let go of me at onc-”_

 

_Izaya was cut off by the feeling of Shizuo’s lips against his, rough and wet. The brunet froze, startled and uncertain. When he felt the other man’s lips part slightly, his confusion turned to passion and he opened his mouth so that he could bite Shizuo’s bottom lip. The blond groaned softly and threaded a hand through Izaya’s hair, tugging the strands softly. He hadn’t expected this reaction. Something was wrong, he thought, eyes still wide open. Shizuo pulled his hair roughly upward so that his throat was exposed and released his lips so that he could trail a mixture of sloppy kisses and bites down beside his ear. Izaya released a soft moan and gripped Shizuo’s side with his free hand, eyes fluttering shut._

 

_The harsh bites felt wonderful, the sensation went straight to his head and he lost himself in the feeling. Behind his closed eyes, he imagined that everything was going to be okay. For a blissful second, the fantasy felt real and he was so, so happy. He was brought crashing back to reality the moment Shizuo pulled away and yanked his head up, slamming it back against the wall. He held the hair tightly, forcing Izaya to open his eyes and stare at him._

 

_“There. That’s my payment for taking out all those Kyumoto guys for you, you piece of shit,” Shizuo hissed, giving him an awful smile. Izaya felt his heart sink. “If I see you again I’ll break your neck. Got it?”_

 

_He released the smaller man and crossed the room the bag he had brought with him to stay over for the night. Izaya watched him, dazed and speechless, as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. He looked back at the informant carelessly._

 

_“Goodbye Izaya.”_

 

_The door slammed shut before Shizuo heard Izaya cry out his name._

 

-0-

 

Izaya woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. He blearily reached for the noisy device and hit the silence button before Namie woke up and shouted at him. He peered at the bright screen through his sleep-blurred vision and was unsurprised to find another taunt from Tsukumoya glaring back at him.

 

 _Tsukumoya, S_ \- **_2:30AM_ **

Oh, my little Orihara. You needn’t worry about your darling monster coming after you anymore.

  


The informant blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, a frown crossing his face. He typed out an initial reply but was interrupted by another message.

  


_Tsukumoya, S_ \- **_2:31AM_ **

He’ll be busy delivering a certain information broker’s hard drive to the Awakusu-kai. I do hope there’s nothing incriminating on it, I would hate for something bad to happen to him.

 

 _Tsukumoya, S_ \- **_2:32AM_ **

So you needn’t worry about Shizuo, not for a couple of days at least.

 

 _Tsukumoya, S_ \- **_2:32AM_ **

But I would suggest you start looking for a better hiding place. The Awakusu-kai are much more resourceful than that blond fool.

 

 _Tsukumoya, S_ \- **_2:33AM_ **

Goodnight, Izaya. Pleasure as always.

  


Izaya felt his heart pulse faster and faster as each new message flashed in front of his eyes. Shit, shit, _shit._ His head span from sheer panic and, due to a level of fear he had never known before, vomited violently onto the floor.

 


	8. Two ill-tempered ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter to move things along. Hope you enjoy. Next one is pretty much just one big scene in the present.

Izaya managed to get the bedroom clean before Namie woke the next morning. In fact, he was already having coffee and reading the morning news on his laptop by the time she strolled into the kitchen in her pajamas. The woman had grown more comfortable with him over such a short period of time - that or she’d decided that he wasn't worth changing her everyday routine for. He presumed the latter. 

 

“What time do you call this?” he called, motioning to the clock on the wall. 

 

Namie smirked and opened the fridge to retrieve a bottle of milk, which she proceeded to drink straight from. Izaya blinked as a memory forced itself to the forefront of his mind. 

 

_ “Shizu-chan, must you drink straight from the carton? Other people want to use that.” _

 

_ The blond wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Why? It's only me and you drinkin’ it, ain't it?” _

 

_ “Yes but-” _

 

_ Shizuo smirked and set the carton down in front of him on the breakfast counter. “You swallowed my cum this morning, yet you won't share milk with me?” _

 

_ Izaya’s mouth dropped open and he went silent for a second in surprise. Eventually, an amused smile crept onto his face. “Oh, whatever. Just remember to put the lid back on.” _

 

“Oi,” Namie said, waving a hand in front of his eyes. Izaya snapped out of his daydream and gave her his usual lopsided grin. “Earth to asshole?”

 

“My apologies,” he chuckled, looking back at his computer screen. “I got a little lost there.”

 

“You okay?” Namie asked, sitting on the stool at the opposite side of the counter. “You look exhausted.” 

 

Izaya waved a hand carelessly at her. “Yes, yes. Fine.”

 

He was  _ not  _ fine, not even a little bit. The informant had been up for most of the night trying to calm himself down and when he finally managed to do so, he started trawling the Internet for information. First he managed to download the texts from Tsukumoya to Shizuo and learn of the details. He could tell the former was being deliberately vague - the bastard probably knew that Izaya was following all his visible movements. Next he tried to find data on Tsukumoya’s delivery man but this endeavour was less fruitful. He had no name, no number - all he had was the street webcam that was stuck on a lamp-post outside the high-rise he lived in. There was another which he himself had planted just inside his front door, aimed at the hallway which led to the main office area.. At least with that he could track who was going in and out of the building. He just needed to wait until Tsukumoya’s courier departed and the lights in his apartment turned off, then he would head back to his apartment in the middle of the night when Shizuo was sleeping to retrieve whatever both his hard-drive and the copy and destroy them both. 

 

Izaya frowned and rested his hand under his chin. He should have destroyed it in the first place but for some reason he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Perhaps it was residual guilt, a reminder of how awful things could get if he miscalculated, but more likely it was because he thought he might be able to use the information in the future. The broker sighed and raised the cup of coffee to his lips. It was a bitter roast, expensive knowing Namie’s taste, but he liked it nonetheless. He looked at his computer screen, which was split into two separate cells. One was a livestream from outside his apartment, the other was of his hallway. Every now and then Shizuo crossed the end of the corridor or headed into the bathroom. He was clearly making himself at home, which Izaya found rather amusing. 

 

“I’ll be going out tonight,” he said, peering up at Namie over the rim of the cup. 

 

“I assume from your initial vagueness you won’t be telling me where,” she replied. She flicked open a crossword puzzle book and began to read through the clues. 

 

Izaya chuckled and set his coffee back down on the counter. “Your assumption would be correct.”

 

“They always are,” she answered, sounding bored. “Sudden increase, five across, second letter is ‘U’.”

 

“Surge,” Izaya said, looking back at his computer. “I must let you know that I might not come back.”

 

“Uh huh,” she didn’t bother turning her gaze away from the crossword, seemingly uninterested. “I doubt that. You always seem to stay alive. It’s annoying.”

 

“So cold,” he laughed. 

 

“Unsafe position, six down.”

 

“Danger?”

 

“Yeah, that fits,” she said, filling in the small squares. “Hmm. Ah, I’m sure you’ll be able to answer this one.”

 

Izaya sighed and picked up his cup again as she turned her gaze to look at him. “Yes?”

 

“Responsible for an atrocity,” she sneered. “Six down. Third letter is-”

 

“Guilty,” he replied, blankly. He set his cup down a little too hard and it splashed over the rim onto the table. He glared at her for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the laptop when he noticed Shizuo moving out of the bathroom into the hall. His hair was wet - he must have been showering. “Very amusing, Namie.”

 

The woman snorted derisively and span around on the stool. “You want scrambled eggs?”

 

“Extra peppers?”

 

“Extra peppers.”

 

Namie paused on her way to the stove and turned to face him. There was serious expression on her face but one a little softer than usual. “You know, you play with life too much. Not just other people’s but your own as well.”

 

“Where has this sudden observation come from?” Izaya asked, trying his best to look amused. 

 

“Don’t mistake it for caring, Izaya,” she hissed, smiling unpleasantly. She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s purely curiosity. Do you have any idea what the future holds for someone like you? I mean, the one person who ever genuinely liked you is now trying to break your neck. Do you really think things are going to get better?” 

 

Izaya stiffened and his fingers tightened around the coffee cup. He gave Namie a wry smile but she could see how tense he had become. His lips were strained at the corners and his left eye was twitching ever so slightly, a tick she had noticed over the years whenever he became anxious. 

 

“Unless someone else cares a whole awful lot; nothing is going to get better. It’s not,” he mumbled, looking down into his coffee. 

 

“Dr Seuss? Fitting for someone so childish,” Namie frowned. She had read that book to Seiji in their younger years and recognised the rhyme. “That’s not correct. It’s ‘unless someone  _ like you  _ cares a whole awful lot’.”

 

Izaya smiled and his dark, unreadable gaze flicked back up to her. “I know, my dear Namie. But I know  _ you  _ don’t care about me on iota, so I thought the change was applicable.”

 

Namie snorted again and turned back to the stove so she could prepare their breakfast. Izaya watched her absent-mindedly for a moment, before looking back at the computer screen. Shizuo was standing at the end of the hallway, rubbing a towel on his head to get rid of the water from the shower. The informant took in a shaky breath and resisted the urge to stroke the pixelated outline on the screen. 

 

“Someone like you,” he murmured. His thin lips pulled up at one side. There was no-one that cared, not anymore. Nothing is going to get better. It’s not. 

  
  


-0- 

  
  


**_A.A HAS ENTERED THE CHAT ROOM_ **

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Hey! How are things?  _

 

_ A.A: _

_ I don’t know _

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Did you leave? _

 

_ A.A: _

_ Yeh. Dunno where I’m going. I’m by the owl statue in Ikebukuro Station. Are you meeting me? I don’t want my dad to find me b4 you get here.  _

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Yep! I’m on my way.   _

  
  


**_PRIVATE MESSAGE_ **

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Miss Akane is currently in the station, by the owl statue.  _

 

_ Ryota:  _

_ Your money is being transferred. Thank you for your assistance, Mr Nakura.  _

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ My pleasure. I hope your terms with the Awakusu-kai are met without any bloodshed now that you have such an influential bargaining chip.  _

 

_ Ryota:  _

_ Unlikely, seeing as my guys are on their way to slit her throat. We wanted a war, Nakura not an agreement. Those stupid bastard have put a hold on our narcotics trade for far too long.  _

 

_ Nakura: _

_...what? _

 

_ Ryota: _

_ The Awakusu-kai have been so far reluctant to retaliate. I’m sure this will bring them out of the woodwork.  _

 

_ Ryota:  _

_ Thanks again for your help. I’ll call you again if we need another job doing.  _

 

**_RYOTA HAS LEFT THE PRIVATE MESSAGE CHAT_ **

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Wait! _

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Ryota, what are you talking about? You never said that _

 

**_EXIT PRIVATE MESSAGE_ **

  
  


_ Nakura:  _

_ Akane, are you there?  _

 

_ A.A:  _

_ Yeah, still here. Where are u? _

 

_ Nakura: _

_ I need you to leave the station as quickly as possible. Please, just get out and go home.  _

 

_ A.A: _

_ What why? _

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ Because  _

 

**_A.A HAS LEFT THE CHAT ROOM_ **

 

_ Nakura:  _

_ No no no no _

 

**_EXIT CHAT ROOM_ **

  
  


-0- 

  
  


It was about nine thirty in the evening when Tsukumoya’s courier showed it. The meeting was rather uneventful - Shizuo opened the front door, a man in black with a nondescript face handed him a package, turned on his heel and left again. The blond scowled, he was used to friendlier couriers. 

 

There were a few instructions scrawled on the back of the package and when he opened it he found a small black box. It had a removable cap which revealed a metal USB insert. Shizuo shrugged and moved into the living room so that he could sit down behind Izaya’s desk. His phone buzzed almost as soon as he took a seat and he knew before he slid it out of his pocket who it was. 

 

_ Weird guy -  _ **_9:32PM_ **

Apparently the delivery has arrived. 

 

_ Heiwajima, S -  _ **_9:33PM_ **

Yep. What do I do? 

 

_ Weird guy -  _ **_9:35PM_ **

Plug the device into a USB port and wait until the light at the end goes blue. Then turn the machine on. After that you can just sit back and wait until everything has been copied over. The light will go red when that happens. It may take a day or two depending on how long it takes to get through Orihara’s encryption. DO NOT touch it before then. 

 

Shizuo looked down at the black box and shook his head. Bloody computer nonsense, he didn’t understand it. He inserted the stick into the desktop and waited for a moment until a blue light flashed at the end, at which stage he pressed the power button. With a sigh, he stood back up and placed his hands in his pockets. There wasn’t much else to do now but wait. There was no food left in the house but he was reluctant to leave, so he searched through his phone for nearby food delivery. 

 

Izaya’s house was pretty comfortable, he could get used to this sort of lifestyle. He collapsed onto the sofa and laid back to grab the TV remote. The apartment filled with the sounds of some rubbish game show as the television burst into life. Shizuo relaxed back against the sofa cushions and flicked through the various takeaway-delivery restaurants nearby. 

 

Behind him, the computer whirred quietly. The blond sighed and rested his phone down on his chest as his mind started to wander back to the photograph he found earlier. He had it tucked in the back pocket of his trousers but he didn’t fish it out - he’d looked at it too much already. 

“Stupid flea,” he grumbled, placing a forearm over his eyes. “What did you have to go and do all that for?”

 

His chest ached. 

 

Shizuo wondered if he would actually be able to kill Izaya in the end. He’d been so close so many times and if he was truly dedicated to it, he would have just snapped his neck rather than dancing around it. Part of him did want the flea dead and buried, just to stop him from causing any more trouble in the city. Another part, a much more honest part, knew that seeing those dark, mischievous eyes flat and lifeless would be unbearable. 

 

“Fuck,” he breathed, angrily. He hit his fist against the side of the couch and let out a loud growl. “I hate you, Izaya. I fucking hate you.”

  
  



	9. The dark is still the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting super into writing again hence why I'm churning these out so quickly. Enjoy!

 

It was midnight by the time Izaya arrived at his apartment in Shinjuku. He’d waited for an hour after the lights had been switched off on his webcam stream - he knew how long it took Shizuo to fall asleep and he wanted to make sure the beast was well into one of his deep sleeps before he entered. Now, standing outside of his own front door, he felt utterly terrified. This was his one chance, the last chance he had to keep breathing. Either he would get away, destroy the information, or he would be killed. He wasn’t certain if he preferred the Awakusu-kai or Shizuo to be his executioner - the former was certainly less painful, in more ways than one. With a deep breath, he turned the doorknob and stared into the thick darkness of his hallway. It felt as if this was some unknown, strange place, not his own home. It was unwelcoming. It was cold.

 

Izaya padded gently along the hallway, thanking his prior self for having fitted carpet instead of wooden slats, and eventually came to the main living area. He could see his computer, he could see the blue light flashing in the darkness, it was only ten feet or so away. Izaya knew how to be quiet and fast, it was why he could escape Shizuo so easily, but he still gripped his switchblade tightly in his free hand - just in case. He headed across the room slowly, eyes scanning back and forth until-

 

“Oof!”  

 

Izaya collapsed onto the floor when a heavy weight collided with his kneecap. He let out a harsh yell as he felt the bone crunch unpleasantly and the joint roll in its socket. The living room light burst on, temporarily blinding him. When he regained his vision he saw Shizuo standing over him. The blond was wearing a pair of innocuous pajama bottoms, no shirt and his hair was mussed. Izaya gaze slid over to the sofa where he noticed a blanket and set of pillows from his bedroom.

 

“You,” he groaned, leaning back against the wall. “You knew I'd be coming?”

 

“I had a hunch,” Shizuo replied, placing his hands in his pockets. “What did you come back for?”

 

Izaya winced as he tried to stand and ended up falling back onto the floor. His knee was aching terribly and he hoped it wasn't broken - now that Shizuo was awake his plans of a quick in-and-out job were totally fucked.

 

“Nothing that concerns you, Shizu-chan,” he said, through grit teeth. With great effort he hoisted himself up and leaned back against the wall for support. Sharp twinges of pain ran up and down his leg and he wondered whether or not he would be able to run fast enough to get away. Shizuo looked strangely calm compared to the last few times he saw him but Izaya knew better than to judge to blond by his cover.

 

“Tsukumoya’s computer thing, ain't that right?” Shizuo asked, mouth twisting into a grin. “You want to destroy it before it gets to the Awakusu.”

 

Izaya felt the colour drain from his face. Everything was getting far too out of control for his liking. He wanted to go back to being puppet master. The informant had long sat like a spider at the heart of a monstrous web and it was only now that he felt more like one of the captive, meaningless flies.

 

“What makes you think that, Shizu-chan?” he croaked. He forced a smile through the pain radiated from his knee.

 

“Because I know you,” he retorted, folding his broad arms across his chest. “I know what you’re like.”

 

“That’s a bit of a bold statement,” Izaya teased. Shizuo took a few steps forward and crowded him back against the wall. There was a bitter smile on his face and his brows were furrowed in a way that made Izaya tense. The vein pulsing in his forehead made him cringe - Shizuo looked on the verge of exploding.

 

“You’re scared,” the blond stated, blankly.

 

“I’m not _scared,_ ” he hissed in response. He swung his hand up out of his pocket and sliced the blade across Shizuo’s chest. It only left a shallow cut as the larger man jerked backward before it could go any deeper. Izaya smirked and held the knife out, level with Shizuo’s eyes. “I’m not scared of _you._ ”

 

“I didn’t say that,” Shizuo spat, face flushing with rage. “You’re scared of your nasty little secret getting out. You’re scared of the Awakusu-kai hunting you down like an animal. You’re scared of ending up dead in some ditch with no face and no name and no-one to give a shit.”

 

“Shut up!” Izaya shouted.

 

He was surprised by how aggressive his words came out as he darted forward to try and stab his knife into Shizuo’s gut. The blond caught his wrist and twisted it violently upward, forcing the switchblade out of his grip. Before Izaya could even let out a scream, Shizuo raised his knee and shoved it into his stomach. The informant doubled over, severely winded by the blow, and his body went slack. He would have dropped to his knees but Shizuo did not let go of his wrist so he dangled above the floor, legs half collapsed. After a moment to catch his breath, he pushed against the floor and shoved his shoulder into Shizuo’s crotch. The action was hard enough to force the blond back a couple of steps and he released Izaya’s wrist as he let out a grunt of pain.

 

“You little shit,” Shizuo growled.

 

He gripped the informant’s neck and hurled him over his shoulder. There was a loud crash and when he turned he saw that Izaya had smashed into the coffee table in the middle of the sofas. The smaller man groaned loudly in pain and raised his hand to the back of his head. When he drew his fingers back there was blood saturating the skin and he grimaced at the sight. Izaya couldn’t linger long on the injury as Shizuo was already stomping across the room toward him. Quickly, he pushed himself up onto his feet and jumped over the back of the sofa so he could run unsteadily to the kitchen.

 

“Izaya!” Shizuo roared, tearing across the sofa with fury burning in his eyes.

 

The informant vaulted the island and turned around to face Shizuo from the opposite side. He slid a larger knife from the block in the centre of the counter and a bottle of vodka from the cupboard beneath. With a nasty smile, he threw the bottle at the approaching beast and laughed when it smashed straight into his chest. It burst into hundreds of vicious shards which shredded Shizuo’s bare torso.

 

“Fuck, agh,” the blond yelled, taking a few steps back. The shards left a number of thick cuts down his pectorals and stomach and blood began to blossom across his skin. The alcohol created an unpleasant burning sensation but it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. It was more the surprise that distracted him. When he looked up, Izaya was standing only a few feet away from him, carving knife raised toward his heart. The informant’s usual switchblades weren’t enough to really hurt him but the larger knife he currently held could cause some serious damage if the flea stabbed it somewhere sensitive. He had no doubt that Izaya wouldn’t miss his target if he was set on it.

 

“Move back,” Izaya panted, clearly in pain from the rough treatment. There was a stream of blood trickling down the side of his face and a few red marks along his cheekbones from where his skin had been scraped along the floor. Shizuo remained still. “I said - move.”

 

After a moment longer, the blond took three steps back, putting a decent amount of space between them. Vodka was dripping from his fringe onto the glass covered floor and for a moment that was the only sound that could be heard. Izaya let out a shaky laugh and leaned back against the kitchen island as his knee was smarting terribly.

 

“I’m not scared,” he repeated, trying not to show the pain on his face.

 

“You’re a liar,” Shizuo scoffed, brushing a few shards of glass from his chest. “You always were.”

 

“I’m n-” the informant hesitated. He tightened his grip on the knife and twisted it slightly. “Let me go. Seeing as you’re so intent on going through with Tsukumoya’s plan and there’s no chance that I’ll be able to get what I need without you ripping my head off, I should probably start running.”

 

“Huh?” Shizuo replied, confused. “You’re not going to try and take it?”

 

Izaya shook his head. “There’s no point. I can’t beat you in hand to hand combat, you’re too much of a brute.”

 

“Pathetic,” he chided, narrowing his eyes. “You’d rather run than fight for your life.”

 

“It seems more sensible,” Izaya replied. He grit his teeth together in annoyance. “Let me go.”

 

Shizuo scowled ferociously and took a few steps forward despite the knife still in Izaya’s outstretched hand. “Why should I?”

 

The informant pressed himself back into the kitchen counter as far as he could and tried to ignore the way his hand was trembling around the handle of the knife. “Stay away, Shizu-chan.”

 

“What’s on your computer?” Shizuo demanded, fists clenching at his sides. “Tell me.”

 

“Why should I?” Izaya echoed, rolling his head to one side. He didn’t like the way the blond was tensing and he wondered if he would be able to fend him off for much longer.

 

“If you’re honest with me, I’ll let you go,” he answered, staring straight into Izaya’s surprised eyes. He laughed bitterly and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll let you run away and I won’t follow you. With the Awakusu on your tail I won’t be needed anymore. Just, fuck, just don’t lie for once in your fucking life Izaya.”

 

The informant stared at him blankly for a moment, entirely still. He was confused by the way Shizuo’s eyes were imploring him to talk and more so by the way he wanted to tell him everything. Slowly, he lowered the knife down to his side and rested one elbow back against the counter so that he could take the weight off his knee.

 

“Okay,” he sighed, softly. “Okay. There’s chat logs on my computer, stored offline, between Nakura and Akane Awakusu. The Nakura side of of the chat has been wiped online which is why the Awakusu only saw Akane’s side of the conversation.”

 

Shizuo paused, then nodded. “And Nakura is?”

 

Izaya raised his eyes to Shizuo’s and the blond was surprised to see that they were empty of their usual trickery. When he spoke, his voice was rich with sadness. “Who do you think?”

 

“You killed that little girl,” he stated, growing angrier by the second. “How the fuck could you do something like tha-?”

 

“I didn’t know that was going to happen,” Izaya lamented. He pressed the heel of his hand against his left eye and clenched his fingers in his hair. “I encouraged her to run away, I told the rival group where she was going to be but I didn’t know they were going to do that. They told me that they were going to use her as a bargaining chip to get what they wanted. I was _assured_ that they wouldn’t do anything to her. It was only at the last minute that the Kyumoto-kai-”

 

The informant’s face creased up as his voice trailed off. Shizuo watched him silently, uncertain of what to do. Izaya was never visibly emotional, he was well-trained in covering his face with a mask, so he was inclined to believe that the man was telling the truth. Still, his excuses weren’t good enough. He might not have actively been involved in Akane’s death but he provided all the means for it to happen. There was blood on his hands whether he wanted it or not. Shizuo was surprised by the seemingly honest remorse he was expressing - the puppet master never usually cared about the toys he was playing with. He had barely batted an eyelid when Shizuo confronted him about what happened with Kasuka. A thought suddenly rang through his mind - _Kyumoto-kai_.

 

“Why did you send them after my brother?”

 

Izaya lowered his hand and his reddened eyes raised to look at Shizuo. He gave a weak smile and swallowed down the sob that he was trying so hard to restrain. “After the Awakusu-kai wiped out most of them, I got a message from a few members of the Kyumoto-kai. The few still alive. They wanted my help to rebuild, so I told them I would need a job doing first. So I told them to kidnap your brother.”

 

“But why-”

 

“Because I knew you would protect Kasuka,” he explained, sadly. “I knew that you would _really_ hurt them and they deserved it. After that, I told the Awakusu which hospital the remaining members were in and they took care of the rest.”

 

“Why didn’t you just send them to the Awakusu in the first place?” Shizuo asked, frustrated by Izaya’s convoluted way of thinking. “Why the fuck did you need to drag me into it?”

 

Izaya placed the knife down on the counter-top. “The Awakusu-kai tend to be quick about their executions. I thought they deserved something worse and I knew you could hold your ground against them.” He paused and looked down at his bloodied hand. “Part of me wanted to see how strong you could be when pushed. I’d never seen you properly angry before that day. Safe to say, I was impressed.”

 

“Your games are sick,” Shizuo hissed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “You have so many complicated lies in that web of yours, did you really think you could hold them all in balance forever?”

 

“No,” Izaya replied, with a sigh. “I knew this day would come.”

 

“So why did you keep causing chaos?” Shizuo snapped. He moved forward and slammed his hands down on the island on either side of the informant, who flinched away. The blond leaned over him and forced his back to bend uncomfortably over the counter. “What’s wrong with you?”

 

“It was fun,” Izaya answered, a vague smile stretching over his mouth. He wasn’t crying anymore. “Apart from that little incident, I have so much _fun._ ”

 

“Is it fun now?” Shizuo snarled. One hand wrapped around Izaya’s throat and he began to squeeze down painfully hard. The informant spluttered and his hands flew to grip Shizuo’s wrist. “Is it fun now that the one person who ever liked you wants to kill you? Is it fun now that your business partners will soon be hunting you down?”

 

Izaya groaned and scratched at the hand wrapped around his throat. He wanted to reach for the knife but Shizuo got there before him and snatched it up with his free hand. The blond rested his hand on Izaya’s shoulder and pressed the blade against his cheek.

 

“I never wanted you to think I was a bad person, th-that’s why I hid everything from you,” he wheezed, eyes now wide in genuine fear. “I never-”

 

“Oh great!” Shizuo hissed. “What? Do you expect me to thank you for lying to me?”

 

“I never lied when I said I loved you, Shizu-chan,” he croaked, through the tight chokehold. His face was hot and he could hear blood pounding in his ears. “I’m sorry.”

 

Shizuo let out a furious growl and threw the informant down onto the floor beside his feet. It wasn’t fair, Izaya couldn’t play with people, with _him,_ and suffer no consequences. He looked down at the smaller man, who was clambering up onto his knees. The blond moved a few steps away so that he didn’t kick the struggling creature.

 

“I’m sorry,” Izaya repeated, breathlessly. He stood up shakily and fell heavily back against the counter.

 

“Stop it,” Shizuo grunted, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sick of this, get the fuck out.”

 

Izaya opened his mouth but quickly shut it when Shizuo slammed his fist angrily against the wall behind him, cracking the plaster. He ducked his head and limped toward the front door, uncertain as to whether he was relieved or if he was barely keeping himself together. In Izaya’s twisted mind, he had tried to atone for his misdeeds by punishing the people who deserved it. It was only now that he was realising his mistakes. 

 

Before he headed out of the front door, he looked back at Shizuo and gave him a soft smile. “I really am sorry, Shizu-chan. I know there is nothing I can do anymore, so I won’t ask for forgiveness. But I will let you decide what happens to me now. ” He raised his hand and pointed at the desktop. A familiar smile spread over his face and when he spoke, Shizuo could hear a forced playfulness in his tone. “Consider my life in your hands! I won’t fight it anymore.”

 

“Will you run?” Shizuo asked, coldly.

 

Izaya shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m tired.”

 

The blond narrowed his eyes and shook his head incredulously. “Leave.”

 

The informant nodded and slipped out of the door into the darkness of the outer hallway. A dark sound rumbled in Shizuo’s chest and he slammed his fist back into the wall again. The brick crumbled beneath his hand and spilled out onto the floor at his feet. With a sigh, he headed over to the desk near the window and took a seat. For a moment, he eyed the blank desktop silently, his pulse throbbing loudly in his ears.

 

Izaya deserved what was coming to him.

 

_I’m sorry._

 

He was a liar.

 

_I never lied when I said I loved you._

 

Shizuo looked at the device, which was still flashing blue.

 

_Consider my life in your hands._

 

With an angry cry, the blond ripped the device out of the computer and crushed it to dust between his fingers. He stared at the floor, face flushed a deep shade a red, teeth clenched tightly together. Anger spread quickly throughout him and he stood so that he could tear the desktop computer to shreds. He was furious at Izaya for all that he’d done, for fucking up so many lives in Ikebukuro, but more than that he was furious at himself for being unable to squash the flea. His chest was still aching so he continued to punch the remaining evidence of Izaya’s misdeeds into the floor until it was nothing more than scraps of metal and his knuckles were torn and bleeding.

  
  



	10. Vices at fifty-thousand degrees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few more chapters to go! Hope you enjoy. This chapter has high levels of angst, sorry :D 
> 
> By the great suggestion of the_animu_fangirl, the conversation between the Orihara family is somewhat linked to my other fic 'Family' (http://archiveofourown.org/works/10874829) . I might make a few more one-shots within the 'world' of this piece to create a collection. I'm currently thinking of the party at Shinra's where the photograph was taken.

“Ow, for f- can’t you be more gentle?” 

 

Namie glared up at him from her position on her knees. She pressed her fingers harder into his injured knee and smiled. “No.”

 

“Yes, you can,” Izaya hissed, clenching the seat beneath him. 

 

“Who’s the medical professional here?”

 

“You are,” he replied, through grit teeth. “Doctor fucking Frankenstein.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Izaya sighed and gripped the cushions tighter as she bent his knee back and forth. Eventually, she released his limb and stood up. 

 

“It’s not broken,” Namie stated. She moved across the room to her desk where she started rooting around in one of the drawers. “But it’s pretty bruised. Just rest for a while, okay? I’ll get you some ice.”

 

“How kind.”

 

“And this,” she called, throwing a small box at him. Izaya deftly caught it before it hit him square in the face. “Should take down the swelling.”

 

Izaya wrinkled his nose. “What is this, poison?”

 

“Ibuprofen.” 

 

The informant popped two pills from their plastic packaging and swallowed them with a gulp of water. He removed his jacket and relaxed back against the sofa. With a grunt of pain, he swung his injured leg up onto the couch and elevated it slightly on a cushion. Namie approached him and held out a vibrant blue ice pack, which he gratefully took and laid on his sore joint. 

 

“Thanks,” he added, with a smile. 

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Namie replied, tonelessly. She sat down in the armchair opposite him and switched on the television. There was an open bottle of red wine on the table that she’d been drinking before Izaya stumbled through the front door and demanded her attention which she now turned her attention back to. The woman poured herself a large glass and settled back into the armchair with a sigh. “I wonder why he hasn’t killed you yet.”

 

“It’s not like he hasn’t been trying,” Izaya scoffed, pointing to the thick band of bruises circling his throat. 

 

Namie shrugged and took a sip of wine. “You think?”

 

“What do you mean?” the man asked, frowning at her. “Can I have some wine?”

 

“Yes, if you go get yourself a glass,” Namie responded, blankly. 

 

Izaya scowled at her and pointed to his knee. “I can’t move that easily.”

 

“Well, there we go,” she said, lips curving into a smirk. The man glared at her as she took another sip of her drink. “And what I mean is - if Heiwajima wanted to kill you, you’d be dead. He’s clearly been holding back.”

 

“Shizu-chan has been chasing me down for weeks-”

 

“Yeah and he’s caught you a number of times, hasn’t he?” Namie interjected. “If he really wanted you dead he would have just broken your neck. He doesn’t seem like the type who would ramble on about his villainous plan before killing you, giving you a chance to escape - actually, that seems more like something you would do.”

 

“That’s absurd,” Izaya said, dismissively. 

 

“Why has Tsukumoya got the Awakusu-kai involved then?” she said, scathingly. “Because he knows Shizuo won’t be able to finish the job.”

 

The information broker frowned and looked down at his injured knee. That couldn’t be right, he thought, could it? Shizuo had been waxing lyrical about murdering him for such a long time. But Namie was right, he was more than capable of ending Izaya’s life if he really wanted to, especially with Tsukumoya on his side. Why was he hesitating? An errant thought briefly passed through his head, a horrible, hopeful thought that he quickly discarded. It would do no good to linger on things that would never happen. Even if Shizuo didn’t want to kill him, there was no way he felt anything but hatred for him at this point. 

 

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty,” Izaya said, trying to make sense of his confused thoughts. “I’ve no doubt that he will hand that information over to the Awakusu-kai though and that’s essentially a death sentence.”

 

Namie observed him silently for a moment, then set down her glass of wine and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you scared?”

 

Izaya glanced back at the woman who was staring back with an unreadable expression on her face. “Not going to berate me for my sins?”

 

“No, I’ve no place to judge.”

 

“Ah yes,” he chuckled, grinning widely. “I forgot about the whole ‘human trafficking for the sake of science’ thing.”

 

“Don’t forget about the illegal plastic surgery,” Namie snorted, smoothing a hand through her hair. She let it fall over her shoulder and started to turn a finger around a few strands. “You didn’t answer my question.”

 

The information broker sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Of course I’m scared. I know I risk my hide a lot but I don’t want to die.” He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I really, really don’t want to die.”

 

“When will-?”

 

“Tsukumoya will message me to gloat, I’m sure,” he answered, bitterly. “I’ll leave your place as soon as I know. There’s no point dragging you into this as well.”

 

Namie frowned - he was being oddly considerate. “Do you regret what you did?” 

 

“Perhaps,” he murmured, lacing his hands together in his lap. “For what happened with Akane, yes, I think so. I don’t generally regret the way I lived my life.”

 

“You should,” Namie commented. “Pleasure without conscience is a sin.”

 

“So should you. Science without humanity is a sin too.”

 

The broker relaxed his aching, bruised body and his breathing evened out as he started to drift into a state of half-sleep. 

 

“There is a charm to the nasty things we do, isn’t there Namie?” he muttered, faintly. “A charm which makes such deeds unspeakably desirable.”

 

“If only we could resist temptation.”

 

Izaya chuckled and rolled his head to the side so he could crack an eye and look at her. “Where would be the fun in that?”

 

-0- 

 

“What?”

 

_ “What an unpleasant greeting, Mr Heiwajima,”  _ came the cheerful voice of Tsukumoya from down the phoneline.  _ “I have just had a notification that my device is offline. Would I be correct in thinking that you removed it?” _

 

“Yeah,” Shizuo replied, collapsing onto the sofa. “If anyone’s gonna kill Izaya it’s gonna be me. I’m sure of that now.”

 

_ “Interesting. I wouldn’t have predicted this,”  _ the man mused. He laughed lightly and Shizuo heard something slam, like a hand on a table.  _ “But that makes it even better! This is marvellous! I can see why Izaya was always so fascinated with you!” _

 

The blond scowled and placed a cigarette into his mouth, which he swiftly lit. “What’re you talking about?”

 

_ “Your antics have been so amusing these past few weeks and this - this is the best development yet! It’s like my own personal action drama!”  _ Tsukumoya giggled. His voice was scratchy, there was a strange tuned quality to it that suggested there was something inhuman about the man at the end of the line.  _ “You know what, you’ve entertained me so much that I think I’ll stop actively pursuing Izaya just so I can watch what you do.”  _

 

“What? I thought you wanted him dead?”

 

_ “To tell the truth there was no real motive behind it, I was just a little bored and Izaya is so fun to mess with,”  _ Tsukumoya commented, excitedly.  _ “But this is so much better. You’re always so surprising! Marvellous! Wonderful!” _

 

"What about the Awakusu?" 

 

_"Oh, I never really cared about that whole 'Akane' affair. It was just the means to an end."_

 

Shizuo listened silently to the hoarse, manic laughter echoing down the line and continued to breathe in the bitter smoke. He didn’t understand these types, these ‘observers’ who played with the lives of others like Tsukumoya and Izaya, they made life too complicated. Eventually the laughter died down and the broker began to speak again. 

 

_ “Well, Mr Heiwajima, thank you for the amusement. There will be money paid into your bank account by tomorrow morning,”  _ he said, cheerily.  _ “This is where I leave things to you. I can’t wait to see how things play out!” _

 

The dial tone sounded and Shizuo dropped his phone to his side. He’d saved Izaya’s life - the thought sickened him and he held the smoke in his lungs to try and calm himself. The blond squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth together as the smoke started to burn inside his chest. He desperately wanted to pinpoint the reason why he protected that terrible man and tried to recall fond memories of their past - but he found that he could not. Every time he brought back the faintest scene it was immediately washed over with images of their fights, the sound of Izaya’s shrill laughter and the smell of his blood. If there had been any semblance of emotion left for the information broker, it left his body with the plume of smoke that emitted from his mouth. 

  
  


-0- 

 

Izaya had been waiting anxiously in Namie’s living room all day, staring at his phone. He had quickly grown impatient and the suspense was starting to get to him. There was a packed bag by the front door already, stuffed with all the essentials he would need on the road until he could find a hotel to stay in. If the Awakusu-kai became involved, things would get difficult, so he decided to leave Japan when the news came. It would be upsetting to leave his beloved city but he knew it was the sensible thing to do - there was nothing to do but grit his teeth and bear it. 

 

He thought briefly of visiting his parents in America but decided to venture to Europe in the long run. If he thought about escaping as a holiday it seemed more appealing, so he planned to go to a number of cities; Rome, Moscow, London and the like. He might even pick up some contacts on the way. It wasn't a perfect plan but it was better than staying in Tokyo. 

 

Tired of watching the clock tick by, he picked up his mobile and called his old family home. Even though he wasn't exactly close to his sisters, he felt obligated to tell them that he would be going away for a while. Namie would take care of their finances as she had access to the account he set up for them. He worried briefly for their safety and made a mental note to ask Celty to keep an eye out for them. Whilst she would never help Izaya himself, the Dullahan had a soft spot for his oddball sisters and they would be safe in her hands. Not even the Awakusu-kai could match the supernatural power of the Headless Rider. 

 

_ “Hello?”  _

 

Izaya paused before replying. How could he explain this situation to them? Was the truth worth telling - would they even care? He smirked and thought of their pixie-like faces and cunning eyes. They wouldn't give a damn, they were  _ his  _ sisters after all. 

 

“Hi Mairu, is Kururi with you?” he asked. 

 

“ _ Yes,” _ came the voice of the quieter twin. 

 

_ “What do ya’ want Iza?”  _ Mairu asked. She was chewing gum noisily and Izaya grimaced at the squelching sound that came through the receiver.  _ “You dying or something?” _

 

He laughed at her laissez-faires way of asking that question. “Not quite. You'll be pleased to hear that I've almost died a couple of times this month though.” 

 

_ “Cool! Was it Shizuo?” _ Mairu squealed. He could hear Kururi hum approval in the background and pictured her big, blank eyes lighting up with happiness. 

 

“Yep, as usual,” he replied, amused. “I called to say that I will be going away for a while.” 

 

There was a pause, then Kururi spoke.  _ “Out of the city?”  _

 

“Out of Japan,” Izaya answered. There was an even longer pause before one of the twins spoke again. 

 

_ “Why?” _

 

Izaya hesitated slightly, trying to formulate a convincing lie. His sisters were devastatingly good at spotting his untruths. “Work.”

 

The word had only just left his mouth when he realised his mistake. ' _ Work'.  _ The Orihara children had all heard that excuse before. 

 

_ “Are you coming back?”  _ Mairu asked, quietly. 

 

“Yeah, at some point.”

 

_ “Okay.” _

 

_ “Do you have to go?”  _ Kururi whispered. Izaya bit his lower lip and ignored the way his guts were squirming. He felt sick all of a sudden and the weight on his shoulders grew a little heavier. 

 

“Yeah, business to be done,” he chirped. “You'll be okay though. You're always going on about how much better life would be without me in i-”

 

_ “That doesn't mean you can disappear too,”  _ Mairu hissed, scathingly.  _ “If you don't come back, I'll kill you myself - ow, ow! I mean both of us will!” _

 

Izaya blinked, a little taken back by their outburst. He didn't know if his sisters’ cared about him or if they just didn't want to lose another parental figure. There was nothing he could do at this point.

 

“I'll come back, I promise,” he answered, crossing his fingers under the table. “You know I-”

 

He paused and looked down at his crossed fingers. 

 

_ “Yeah? What?”  _

 

“Never mind,” he murmured, abandoning the sentiment. “Be safe okay?”

 

_ “Yeah yeah,”  _ Mairu said, dismissively.  _ “Whatever. Have fun on your shitty trip.” _

 

_ “See you later, Izaya,”  _ Kururi said, solemnly. 

 

The dial tone sounded before he could say anything further. He rested the phone down on the table with a bemused smile on his face. The twins were bizarre creatures, he thought. He still wasn't sure whether or not he actually  _ liked  _ them but they were essentially all the family he had. The promise he made to them rang clear in his mind - he would do his best not to disappoint them. 

 

Out of the blue, he phone buzzed loudly to life and began sliding across the table due to the force of the vibrations. 

 

“Shit,” he muttered, scrabbling to pick it up before it span off the table to the floor. He pressed the button before looking at the caller ID - he could guess who would be calling him. “Hello?”

 

_ “Izaya.” _

 

“Shizuo,” he greeted, immediately tensing. On instinct his free hand came to rest in the pocket of his jacket and his fingers curled around the handle of the switchblade there. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

 

_ “I destroyed your computer.”  _

 

The information broker jolted upright in surprise. “What?”

 

_ “Your computer and that fucking black box thing. I destroyed them flea, I just fucking- I couldn't-”  _

 

Izaya felt his guts turn again and he stood quickly with his phone still in hand until he reached the sink in the kitchen. He wasn't certain what it was, probably the nervous shock or the adrenaline or the feeling that the last bit of control had finally slipped through his fingers, but he vomited the contents of his stomach up. There was little else inside him but coffee and bile which stung the lining of his esophagus terribly as it forced its way out of his guts. After a minute, the heaving calmed and he wiped his lips with the back of a shaking hand. Tremors ran all over his body, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck, he felt weak. He reached for the phone that he'd dropped on the counter and pressed it back to his ear. 

 

_ “Izaya?”  _

 

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replied, voice hoarse from where the stomach acid had hit his throat. “Why did you do that Shizu-chan? Why the fuck would you do that?” 

 

Shizuo paused before answering him.  _ “I don't know. It's not important.” _

 

“It  _ is  _ importa-” Izaya insisted, before he was cut off. 

 

_ “No, it isn't. I don't know why I did what I did, just know that I am appalled with myself,”  _ Shizuo continued. He sounded tired rather than angry.  _ “But your filthy secrets are safe. You can go home now.” _

 

Izaya leaned heavily against the counter and let out a shaky breath. “What about you?” 

 

_ “What about me?”  _ Shizuo laughed, bitterly.  _ “I, for some stupid, stupid reason, shed any scrap of decency I had left by saving your pathetic ass. I will never forgive you for any of this, flea, for dragging me into the horrible world you live in. I’m a good person despite my stupid body, and now look at me - I’m covering up the fucking murder of a little girl. And what for? For the sake of someone who has fucked up my life more times than I can count. I hate you Izaya, I hate you so much 'cos I - this is it, this is the goddamn end to all of it. I’m not gonna hunt you down but if I catch you in Ikebukuro again I will try and kill you, of that I can assure you. Finally, I found my motivation.”  _

 

The informant felt his knees give way and he slid down the kitchen cabinets until he was sat on the floor. A wave of emotion crashed over him so hard that he could barely tell what he was feeling. Relief, anger, that unpleasant sense of loneliness - each one was indecipherable from the next, so he just sat there, frozen in shock. Eventually, he sucked in a breath and let out a short, breathy laugh. 

 

“Then I will just have to make sure you never catch me, Shizuo,” Izaya said, leaning his head back against the cupboard. 

 

The phone line went dead. 

  
  



	11. Hit the ground running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I changed things around a bit so this is the final chapter. It's a little bitter but I was having real trouble thinking of any sort of happy ending for this story. 
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed the story. :)

It was six months before they met again.

 

Izaya stayed away from Ikebukuro for a while as he was still wary of potential dangers lurking in the city streets. Much to his surprise, life became incredibly easy. The Awakusu-kai remained in the dark about his involvement with Akane’s death, their business continued as usual. Even Tsukumoya was even speaking to him again as if nothing had ever happened. Izaya chose not to react, he knew it would only please him and he’d rather seemed unfazed in the other man’s eyes. He was well aware of Tsukumoya’s ever-changing nature and that there had been no personal vendetta behind the ordered hit - no, he knew quite well that the other informant had just been bored. Izaya experienced that feeling himself when he wasn't playing with the lives of others, so he felt it unjust to hold it against him.

 

Soon after their first meeting, Izaya moved back into his apartment in Shinjuku after everything seemed to have settled. Namie was more than happy to see him go, she almost cracked a genuine smile when he waved her goodbye. Shizuo had left his home in a fairly good state, aside from a large crack across a wall by the kitchen. The information broker made sure to change the bedding, it stank of their mixed sweat and Izaya’s blood. More than that though, it smelt like Shizuo and he wanted to rid his head of the man lest his thoughts get carried away. It was stupid to think that the blond might care about him still, even if he did save his life, so he resolved to leave the past in the past and continue his life without the lingering memories.

 

That proved to be much harder than he anticipated. Each morning he looked in his bathroom mirror at his healing wounds and traced each scar that Shizuo had left there. Once, in a spurt of madness, he dug his fingers into one of them to pull it apart, not quite ready to let it fade into nothing. Izaya regretted it almost instantly and covered the mark with two large plasters, annoyed at himself for letting sentiment cloud his judgement again. Why he did it again two weeks later, he couldn’t say.

 

Time passed and the information broker of Shinjuku tried to forget about the things that occurred between him and the ex-bartender. He knew that one day he would have to return to the city but he made no concrete plans for fear of encountering the other man. Well - not _fear_ exactly. Izaya wasn't afraid of the blond but rather that the sight of him in person would shatter the carefully constructed facade that he’d worked on since their last phone call.

 

The day he went back to Ikebukuro was a day like any other.

 

Izaya was sat at his desk, skimming through chat-rooms and annoying Namie by throwing paper planes at the back of her head.

 

“Do it again and I’ll break your fingers,” she snapped, turning around in her chair to glare at him. She crumpled the paper between her fingers and threw it into the trashcan beside her desk.

 

Izaya chuckled and leaned back in his swivel chair. “You’re so boring. Did our time living together teach you to enjoy my company?”

 

“No. Quite the opposite.”

 

“C’est la vie,” Izaya sighed, lips curving into a smile. Namie narrowed her eyes at him and turned back around to continue her filing. “I’m bored.”

 

“I thought you’d be happy that people have finally stopped trying to kill you,” she retorted, slamming the heel of her hand down on the stapler.

 

The informant hummed and looked at the destroyed remains of his desktop which were still piled at the end of his desk. “Things were certainly more exciting when my neck was on the line.”

 

“You’re an idiot.”

 

“And you’re a bitch - we’re perfect for one another.”

 

“Go fuck yourself.”

 

Izaya laughed brightly and span around in a full circle in his chair. “Well, if Namie won’t play with me then I guess I’ll have to find some other humans to dance for me. Let’s see who’s online, shall we?”

 

He scuttled forward so that his legs were back underneath the desk and unlocked his new laptop. A dozen chat rooms were open across the screen, each one pinging constantly with new messages. The Yellow Scarves and the Blue Squares might be fun to prod again, he thought, with a nasty smile. Or maybe it was time to play with Mikado Ryuugamine again now that he would out of the hospital. The options were endless and each as tantalising as the last. His cursor stopped over the Dollars chat room when the name ‘Shizuo Heiwajima’ popped up.

 

_Shizuo’s on a rampage again today, isn’t he?_

 

_Yeah, I heard that someone punched the guy he works with so he socked them straight to the other side of the city!_

 

_POW! That guy sure is strong. Kinda scary, right?_

 

_He does make me a little nervous._

 

_Ah, there’s no need to be frightened of Shizuo Saika, he’s a softie at heart._

 

_Unless you’re Izaya Orihara of course, Setton._

 

_Oh yeah! Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them fight recently - maybe Shizuo killed him at last?_

 

_I don’t know, come to think of it, I haven't seen Izaya is a while._

 

_Maybe he is dead?_

 

Dead, he thought, yeah right. He’d lived through so many attempts on his life that he felt invincible. Those idiots had no idea - Izaya Orihara was a _god._ The broker scoffed, tucked his phone and slid open the drawer by his desk to retrieve one of his many flick-knives. He rummaged around in the back of the drawer until his fingers closed around cold metal. After he pocketed the blade he made move to leave but paused as he started to close the drawer. There was something missing, something he had kept safely out of sight for years - a crumpled, aged photograph that he was very fond of.

 

“Namie, have you been rooting around in my desk?” he asked, sharply.

 

The woman turned back to look at him and shook her head, her face set in a placid mask. “No. I dread to think of what you keep in them.”

 

Izaya frowned and peered into the drawer - it definitely wasn’t there. A strange shiver ran down this spine when he remembered the only other person who had been in his house of late. _Shit._ With no further comment to his secretary he strode out of his apartment and slammed the door shut behind him.

 

“Ikebukuro, here I come,” he hummed to himself as he pressed the button for the lift.

 

With a grim smile and the old ache in his chest throbbing harder than it had in months, he headed out into the night.

 

-0-

 

Ikebukuro looked nice in the Winter but the biting cold wasn’t something Shizuo had ever been fond of. It was nice to look at the thick snow from his position in the bar. This was one of his favourite places to go after work, a simple, small establishment with a good selection of beers. Due to the heavy fall outside it was quieter than usual, he was one of only five patrons there that night. He needed a drink, work had been awful that day. His knuckles still throbbed painfully from where he’d fought and split the skin. Shizuo thought that life would become more peaceful without Izaya but it was quite the opposite. The man still held a lot of pent-up anger over the events of six months ago and he was venting the frustration out through his fists. Part of him wished that his unwilling sparring partners were the flea, just so he felt more justified in throwing such vicious, emotion-driven attacks.

 

Shizuo finished his drink, slumping back into his chair with a deep sigh. When that final phone call ended he felt drained, lifeless but time had revitalised the hatred-fuelled fire that wanted to burn the informant from the inside out. He tilted the chair back onto its rear legs, propping his feet on the table to keep his balance. From this position he could see outside - the night was an odd colour, a sort of sickly grey-brown. Strange, he couldn’t remember a time today when there had been light - dawn and dusk had never appeared, it was just the same dull darkness that hung over the landscape. Of course. It was the twenty-second today, it must be the Winter Solstice. Shortest day, longest night - how very apt. The last time he had witnessed this, it had been with Izaya. They had taken a trip together to watch the dusk from the countryside, the flea spouting myths and legends about random pieces of history. Shizuo had been too kind to tell him that he had read all of those stories before. The blond’s face flushed - those happier memories only made him angry now.

 

With another sigh, he tipped his chair forward and swung himself up onto his feet, heading towards the door to the city. The cold hit his face immediately and his teeth began chattering in his head. The view before him was covered in a thick, white smog that skewered most things from clear sight. The only thing Shizuo found himself comforted by was the sky - a velvet black blanket pin-pricked with glittering stars. It had a strange, shimmering sheen to it, and it cast a ghostly pale light across the rocks of the moor. From his position on the ground, he could see various outlines in the darkness, vast stone giants just visible in the glow. It was abnormally quiet, the only sounds were the occasional car passing in the distance and gentle hum of electricity. It would have been eerie, had he not been so comfortable in his city. He turned his head down to the pavement and placed a cigarette into his mouth.

 

Shizuo smelt him before he saw him. The scent was so recognisable - a bitter sort of tang that turned his stomach and made his face flush red with anger. He clenched his fist around the cigarette in his hand, causing it to break. Angrily, he threw the destroyed smoke into the bin and started to stride toward the source of the scent. He cracked his knuckles as he caught sight of a flash of fur darting down an alley up ahead.

 

“Iza-a-ya!” Shizuo yelled, storming down the alley after the lingering scent. Snow pelted against his body but he was so flushed with rage that he barely felt the cold seeping into his clothes. He wrenched a lamp-post out of the pavement as easy as plucking a blade of grass from the ground and brandished it at his side as he tore down the dank side-street.

 

The information broker was standing at the other end of the alley, his wide grin bright as the snow that fell around him. Izaya chuckled under his breath as Shizuo slowed to a halt and raised his switchblade.

 

“Shizu-chan,” he murmured, twisting the knife. He jerked his head back so that his fur-lined hood fell away from his face. “It’s been a while.”

 

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of Ikebukuro, flea?” the blond growled, strong fingers denting the metal he held in his fist. “You got a death wish?”

 

Izaya laughed and his smile softened slightly. “Can I trust you to kill me this time?”

 

Shizuo grit his teeth together and forced his lips into a smirk. “If I catch you, I’ll kill you, flea. That much I can promise.”

 

“What a shame,” the smaller man replied. All the softness disappeared from his face and his lips curled into a smile that matched Shizuo’s in unpleasantness. “Can I ask one thing before we begin?”

 

“What?” he grunted, lowering the lamp post an inch.

 

“Did you take my photograph?”

 

The blond visibly tensed and suddenly he became aware of the biting cold of the night. A gust of wind blew the snow in a flurry in front of his eyes and all of a sudden the point of Izaya’s knife was digging into his chest. The information broker chuckled and raised a hand. For a moment, Shizuo thought he was going to reach forward and touch his cheek but he paused and let his fingers fall back to his side.

 

“Why did you take it?” Izaya asked, dark eyes now utterly unreadable. Shizuo scowled and took a swing at him with the lamp-post but the informant hastily jumped back out of reach. The knife remained raised and a familiar mischievousness returned to his gaze.

 

“To remind myself that people change,” Shizuo growled, baring his teeth. “And that you will always be a fucking liar.”

 

“Ah, my dear monster. We were happy then weren’t we?” Izaya laughed brightly and pulled his hood back up over his face. He darted forward before Shizuo could swing again and plunged the knife into the side of his torso. The blond snarled and whirled around as Izaya fucked under his arm. He watched the larger man as he yanked the blade out of his waist and threw it behind him. Blood spread across his shirt and dribbled down his body. It stained the snow beneath Shizuo’s feet, painting the white a bright shade of crimson.

 

“Shit,” Shizuo grunted, clutching the stab wound with one hand. He glared viciously at the informant, who was looking at him with amusement plastered on his smug face. “I’ll fucking kill you-”

 

“But we’re happier now, aren’t we Shizu-chan?” Izaya continued. His smile twisted and any remaining sentiment he might have felt toward the beast in front of him was cast away with the cold wind that blustered between them. He sighed happily and turned on his heel as Shizuo started to charge toward him. “This is how it should be.”

 

The informant began to run again, his monster hot on his heels, knowing he would never be able to stop. 


End file.
